Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Lucian

The little doll on the floor transfixed me.

Her blue eyes were pools, deep with their secrets. The different shades of her butterfly beauty were siren calls, even in the sterile surroundings. She seemed at home here, even more than she’d seemed at home in opulence. It shouldn’t have surprised me.

She was even more beautiful from that angle, staring up at me. I stepped up close enough to enjoy it. “Take my shirt off. Now.”

Her fingers fumbled, impudence forgotten. She was visibly nervous.

I wanted to see her slip her hand between her thighs again without permission, but she didn’t. She was silent and still. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty,” I told her.

She stayed silent. It frustrated me how much I wanted her attitude. Because I did. Part of me wanted her attitude. Part of me even liked it. Disgusting.

I punished her for it, dragging her up to her feet and slamming her down onto the counter, her tits pressed tight to the wood. I reached into the drawer and pulled out the metal spatula. I ran it up her thighs, teasing her before striking.

She whimpered. I loved her pain.

I made her squeal again and again and again. I yanked her head back by her silky blonde curls, hungry to see tears streaming down her pretty cheeks, but there were none. She wasn’t crying.

“I’ll make you sob for me,” I snarled, but she smiled.

“Don’t count on it, sir.” Her smile wasn’t rude. It was genuine. It lit up the pain in her eyes.

I knew it. She was a masochist as desperate for my wrath as she was for my mercy.

My cock was a beast in my pants, lost to the siren even more than the rest of me.

Her virginity was the biggest temptation of all, there for the taking. I was used to taking whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I had been since I was a young boy learning from his father. I always clicked my fingers and got whatever I summoned. I cast my eyes on anything I desired and it arrived at my feet. People, possessions, places. So why didn’t I take her?

Why hadn’t I taken her tight little pussy yet?

Fuck knows.

I hit her some more, and she moved with me, rocking those hips as she gasped. The endorphins flooded her—I could sense it. Gasps turned to moans, taking it. Wanting it.

She wanted it. Elaine Constantine wanted me to hurt her.

I forced her thighs apart and curled my fingers around to her pussy. Her clit was a toy in my grip. I twisted. It hurt to a whole different tune.

I wondered what it felt like.

I wondered what her ass felt like, already reddening in a beautiful shade.

“I know you like it,” I told her.

I turned her to face me, giving her no warning before I slapped her tits hard enough to make her bite her lip and whimper. I loved the way they pinked.

“The men who played with you, did they teach you to be a true little masochist?”

She didn’t answer, just stared.

“I asked you a question,” I said. “The men who played with you, did they teach you to be a true masochist?”

“I’m not talking about it,” she whispered. “I don’t tell my secrets.”

I twisted her tits, so rough she cried out.

Under normal circumstances, I would’ve taken what I wanted and hurt her until she spat those secrets right out at me, but there was a strange desire in me.

Something I hadn’t felt before.

I didn’t want her spilling those secrets when I was beating her so bad she couldn’t resist me. I wanted her whispering in the darkness with tears streaming down her cheeks, broken right down to the soul. I wanted her whispering her secrets like a good girl because she wanted to. Right to the core of her. Because she wanted to whisper them to me.

My brain was fucking me up, and I knew it. Sirens drown sailors for a fucking reason.

“You’ll pay for your denial,” I growled, and I meant it.

She knew it. She arched her back, presenting those perfect tits for more punishment.

She got it. Twists and slaps that had her eyes closed tight, struggling not to buckle and cry. Her struggling worked. She was resilient.

I guess she’d learnt to be. I guess they taught her to be. The thought of men teaching her to be resilient both enraged me and excited me in one, and always had done…only now the balance was shifting. Slowly, it was shifting. The rage was rising like venom behind my eyes.

“Please, Lucian, will you fuck me?” she asked. “Please fuck me.”

I forced her onto her knees so hard she cried out. “I’ll fuck your impudent little mouth until you vomit on my cock,” I snarled. “I’ll fuck your throat until you’re nothing but a gasping little wreck on the floor. Is that what you want? That’s what you’re going to get.”