Chapter 38

-Alison-

I wasn't allowed to sleep. If I attempted to leave the bed, Jared either pulled me back or followed after me, picking me up and returning me to the mattress. He disregarded food and showers, his focus solely on toying with me, withholding my orgasms until I begged or eliciting such intense climaxes that tears streamed from my eyes.

He compelled me to confess repeatedly how much I desired him, how he was my sole focus, how I envisioned him even when I was with others. He coerced me to acknowledge him as my Master and pledge eternal devotion as his devoted "slut". He extracted vows that I would deny others access to me, marking me with bite marks along my inner thighs and around my neck.

By half past one in the middle of the night, I was panting, scarcely able to move. My eyes struggled to stay open, and I was drenched between my legs, yet powerless to shift. Eventually, I succumbed to sleep, though it offered little respite, as my subconscious nagged that Jared would vanish upon my awakening. However, when I startled awake, my eyes met another figure beside me.

Jared slept peacefully, his breaths steady, his face angled toward me, and my heart skipped a beat. A smile crept across my face as I reached out to touch him, running my fingers over his cheek. I was certain he would vanish when I fully awoke, but here he lay beside me, peacefully resting. As I touched him, he stirred, always alert to his surroundings.

"Jared?" I whispered.

"Hmm," he replied groggily.

"You stayed?" I asked, a note of incredulity in my voice.

He let out a deep sigh. "I fell asleep," he pointed out, as if it weren't evident, and I couldn't help but stifle a giggle.

"You don't usually stay over," I noted.

"Kicking me out?" he teased.

"Of course not. I was just curious."

"I'm sleeping, Alison, which I didn't get to do last night, so please, be quiet," he murmured.

I was about to let out a chuckle when Jared scooted closer. His arm slipped around my waist, settling on my hip as he drew me nearer. He maneuvered me to swing a leg over his body until I was practically lying on his chest. His hand rested on my thigh, fingers tracing patterns on my skin as he explored my back with the other, all the way down to my ass. I reciprocated, running my fingers along his jawline, savoring every contour.

I pressed a kiss to a scar near his neck, eliciting a contented groan from him.

"Will you still be here when I wake up?" I whispered.

"Maybe," he murmured.

"Just say you will," I urged.

A slight smile played on his lips as he replied, "A slave doesn't give commands."

"Just say you'll be here," I persisted.

"Maybe," he repeated, his nails grazing my skin, prompting a hiss from me.

"Jared!" I scolded softly, and his grip tightened.

"Maybe," he echoed, causing me to roll my eyes. Despite his response, I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. I was hesitant to fall asleep, fearing he might vanish again, returning to his wife who relished blackmail as much as he did.

All I wanted was for him to stay here, his warmth enveloping me, sharing this tranquil moment. It felt unfair that I couldn't keep him, always forced to wait for his decision on where he would be. However, I reminded myself that this didn't alter the fact that Jared and I kept gravitating toward each other, despite the passage of years. We were intertwined too deeply. With that thought, I closed my eyes, drifting back to sleep.

When I awoke, sunlight streamed into the room, filtering through the partially drawn curtains, casting a soft glow. As I lifted my head, I realized I wasn't met with the sensation of skin beneath my cheek, sparking a moment of concern.

Pushing myself up, I attempted to sit upright, but found myself unable to move freely. With a slight turn of my head, I discovered why—I was nestled in a tangle of limbs with Jared, his weight pressed against me, his arm draped protectively over my form. A sigh of relief escaped me as I allowed myself to sink back onto the bed.

He's still here!The thought echoed jubilantly within me as I reached for his wrist, intertwining our fingers and tracing patterns along his palm and the back of his hand. Scars adorned his skin, especially noticeable on his knuckles. Surprisingly, amidst the array of scars, there wasn't a single tattoo to be found on his body.

It prompted a fleeting thought—wasn't it a stereotype for gang members to have tattoos? But could I even categorize Jared as such? Wasn't he more akin to Batman? No, that comparison didn't quite fit. Batman fought for justice, whereas Jared's complexities transcended mere heroism. I knew it wasn't prudent to dwell on such questions or seek answers, yet I couldn't help but ponder what precisely defined Jared.

Nevertheless, I refrained from rousing him from his slumber with inquiries. Instead, I continued to play with his hand, reveling in the simple pleasure of his presence beside me in bed, peacefully asleep. It was almost exhilarating to witness him find such tranquility with me, considering the tumultuous nature of our relationship.

Indeed, much had changed since the day he strode into my office, demanding retribution. In that moment, I harbored an intense hatred toward him, yet paradoxically, I found solace in his return.

Many believed him to be dead, and for a time, I had feared the same, attempting to move forward with my life. While I was relieved to discover he was alive, our circumstances hadn't markedly improved. He was entrenched in a marriage and a world foreign to me, while I remained ensnared in a life he could never fully comprehend or be a part of.

Jared began to groan softly, signaling his awakening, and I smiled, shifting my head as best I could beneath his weight. Still in a drowsy state, his lips trailed over my back, eliciting a chuckle of delight from me.

"Didn't have your fill last night?" I teased.

Pushing himself up, he turned me around to face him, his fingers tracing the letters of my collar with a satisfied glint in his eyes, mingled with desire.

"Did you?" he countered.

Drawing him close, I kissed his lips before shaking my head. "We both know I'll never get enough of you," I whispered.

He seemed to relish my response, his hand sliding down my body to caress my bare breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb.

"You stayed," I observed, pulling back slightly.

"I had some time," he replied casually.

"But if you had time, you must have known that last night," I accused, to which he responded with a dark smile.

"Jared, you bastard," I groaned, though his laughter quickly melted my annoyance as he kissed me, sending shivers down my spine.

"We're never going to stop playing our games, Alison. It's what keeps things exciting."

"You could have just told me you were staying," I retorted.

"And miss out on your sweet begging?" he teased. "No, I think not."

"That's cruel," I snarled, but his hand found its place between my legs, eliciting a moan from me.

"You're right, I can be very cruel," he taunted, his fingers dancing over my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me. "But I can also be very sweet, as long as my little slut gives me everything I desire."

"Oh, yes," I breathed, nodding eagerly, willing to give him anything if he promised not to stop.

His lips found mine again, the kiss rough and demanding, leaving me no time to focus on anything else as his fingers expertly teased me. Distracted by his intoxicating kiss, I felt myself growing dizzy, the orgasm finally crashing through my body, leaving me crying and whimpering against him.

Yet, only faint sounds escaped me as he continued to kiss me relentlessly, forcing me to remain focused on him. I became intoxicated by him, a limp mess once he pulled back, his slick fingers pressed to my lips, traces of our passion lingering there.

I took him inside, cleaning him eagerly, and he discarded the covers, tossing them to the end of the bed before pulling me close and doing the same to me. Placed on my hands and knees, I had no time to gather my thoughts before his cock plunged deep inside me, eliciting cries of pleasure. My pussy felt well used, but I was craving both a break and more of him.

Despite the ache, I eagerly accommodated him, the wet sounds filling the room only heightening my arousal. My clit throbbed with need as he pounded away behind me, his hands firmly gripping my hips as he fucked me with unrelenting force.

As I reached down to touch myself, he grabbed my hand and sank his teeth into my back.

"Naughty slut, don't touch yourself unless I tell you to," he commanded.

"B-But I'm so close," I protested weakly.

"Only when I say so," he reiterated, compelling me to place my hand back on the bed. Our fucking filled the air, the room practically humid with our shared passion and exertion. It had been some time since I had been taken so forcefully, yet with Jared, it felt both overwhelming and incredibly satisfying.

"God, I can't hold on much longer," I whimpered, bowing my head forward in ecstasy.

"You will. You'll give me anything I want, won't you, slut?" he taunted, his hand tightening around my collar as he continued to move inside me, his groans sending delightful shivers down my spine. "Isn't that right?" he pressed, his voice dripping with dominance.

"Yes! Yes! Please, make me come!" I begged, but he only laughed at my plea, leaving me unsure if he would grant me release or prolong my torment.

"Louder," he suddenly commanded.

"What?" I gasped.

"Shout it again. Tell me how badly you want me to make you come," he demanded.

Though I didn't understand his motive, I complied, desperate for him to bring me to climax.

"Master, please! Please, make me come!" I cried out.

His dark laughter sent a shiver down my spine, a foreboding warning before another voice pierced the air, "Alison?"

I froze, turning to see Warren standing in the doorway, holding Jared's jacket. His eyes held disbelief, and panic surged through me.

Fuck me!