Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

SERAFINA

The thought of a hot shower feels really good right now.

Being near Tyrant, no matter how dangerous and crazy he is, I do feel safe. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here, even though I’m not sure what it means to be here.

I look over my shoulder as I exit the bedroom and see the circled hooks sticking out of the wall. I’m no expert when it comes to intense sexual fantasies, but I’m not dumb. Those hooks are for connecting something or someone to.

Does that mean Tyrant is going to chain me up? Tie me up? Basically attach me to a spare bedroom wall…? My nerves bounce a little but I don’t panic.

I enter the bathroom and everything is dark. A very dark shade of gray. The towels are black. I touch one. It’s soft. My body tingles, wanting to feel the towel against my skin.

The shower is a walk in shower with a silver-framed door with snowy glass. The bathroom smells like Tyrant. That manly soap smell. I realize this bathroom is different from the one I threw up in. Meaning Tyrant has two bathrooms in his place.

I’m not sure why that matters but when you consider we’re basically at some glorified college campus, it’s wild to think of places like this existing for those who attend. But I’m starting to get the vibe that guys like Tyrant aren’t exactly attending around here. I’m not so sure they show up to any classes or anything like that. They have another purpose here. Something dark. Something powerful.

I turn on the shower and begin to strip myself of my clothing. My pants first. Panties next. They resist, peeling away from my body, leaving me rolling my eyes because I have to now confess to myself that yes, Tyrant grabbing my throat, holding me against a wall and then showing me some bedroom with hooks in the walls to tie someone up… all of it just turns me on.

Plus, his words to me? That deep, whispering voice, talking about sucking my clit? It was like literally erotic ASMR . How could any woman hear that from a guy like him and not get wet?

I reach down and take off my panties, ball them up and shove them into my pants. I kick them out of the way. My shirt then hits the floor, followed by my bra.

The mirror hasn’t fogged up yet. Of course I look at my nipple. A faint yellow mark remains. It’s still tender but not sore. It feels like a lifetime ago that Tyrant stalked me on my run and teased and tortured my nipple.

Time moves weird around here right now. I’m captive yet I’m still free. My entire old life doesn’t mean much to me and I’m a little surprised at how much I don’t care and don’t miss it, even though someone around here wants me dead. Or at the very least, wants me severely injured.

Steam climbs around the bathroom and I step toward the shower. One foot in, I test the water, wiggling my toes. It’s hot. Probably too hot, but I don’t care.

I step into the shower, right under the water. I close my eyes, let my head fall back, and exhale a long breath. The water is hot and feels good against my skin. For a second I feel like I’m floating into space. Like I don’t even exist anymore. And quite frankly, I don’t exist anymore. There’s nothing. There’s nobody.

I reach for the shower door to pull it shut, but it refuses to comply with my request. I open my eyes and a few random droplets of water splash at me. I blink and turn my head. There’s a man in a black mask staring at me.

I open my mouth to scream and he throws his left hand at my face…

The hand latches to my face, covering my mouth. My eyes well with tears from the sudden rush of pain inside my mouth. The insides of my cheeks are cut instantly from his thrust and grasp.

He’s dressed in all black and steps into the shower, fully clothed. He pushes me against the wall. It’s cold. I jump and shiver. My nipples tighten into a harder state that ache. I’m attacked by fear, panic, and yet…

I think I know. But… to be sure…

The man in the black mask nods at me. As though he’s thinking what I am.

Warmth hits my body and it’s not the water. I lift my right hand slowly, carefully, seeking the masked man’s nipple. I feel the familiar piercing and my inner thighs shake. Tyrant is the man behind the mask. Dressed in all black. Forcing himself into the shower after me.

“Turn the fuck around, claimed one ,” his voice says, so fucking deep.

I do as I’m told, facing the wall. I keep my hands at my sides. My body shakes with anticipation of whatever Tyrant has in store for me. I can’t believe how eager I am right now. It’s almost desperation on my end.

Fingertips graze my hips. Then tighten. His hands slide down along my legs and to the backs of them, then up and over the natural curve of my ass.

His thumbs press and dig, easing between my cheeks. I feel him touch back there and I jump.

“Don’t fucking move an inch, Sera,” he growls. “Understand me?”

“Yes,” I purr.

“I need you clean,” Tyrant says.

He reaches to his right and grabs for a thick, black washcloth. On a corner shelf there’s a black bottle of body wash. The text on the bottle is white and small, but I have a feeling I will know the scent. The liquid oozes onto the washcloth at his command. He rubs the washcloth together, creating manly scented suds.

He touches my ass again. The washcloth rubbing from one cheek to the other. Up to the small of my back. Around to my belly. Then down.

When the washcloth touches between my legs I look down and watch as Tyrant’s hand moves. He’s still fully clothed too. His sleeve soaked, clinging to his forearm and wrist.

He brings the washcloth back up the front of my body, all the way to my right breast. He lifts it. He squeezes.

“You finish,” he whispers to me in that deep voice.

I take the washcloth from him and finish washing my breasts. I move my hand up to my neck and I tilt my head back once again.

I look back and see Tyrant’s black mask. My inner thighs shiver with need. I move the washcloth to my left shoulder.

“Down,” he speaks just one word.

I drop the washcloth down my body.

“Around,” he then says.

I move my left hand back around to my left ass cheek.

“In between, claimed one ,” he growls.

I let out a breathless sigh. I mean, yeah, I’ve touched myself back there for personal hygiene reasons. I swipe the washcloth between my cheeks. I press. Gently massage.

“Drop the washcloth,” Tyrant says.

I release my hold and hear the washcloth thump down behind my feet.

“Touch again,” I’m told.

My fingertips are at my ass. I use my pointer finger and touch there . My tight, gently puckering hole.

“Harder, Sera.”

I press. Harder. My fingertip gently starts to open my hole. I realize it’s just soapy hot water that’s aiding me right now.

“There you go,” Tyrant growls.

I realize his hands are now holding my ass cheeks. Spreading me open. He’s watching me as I touch myself back there.

“What do I do with my right hand, Ty?” I ask in a shaky voice.

Tyrant grabs my right wrist and pulls my hand behind my back and lifts. A dull pain burns in my wrist and elbow.

“Take your fingertip out of your ass, claimed one . Right now.”

I move my left hand away from my ass.

Tyrant spins me around and pushes me against the shower wall. His right hand grabs my left breast with aggressive force. His fingers curl, dig. He wants me to feel pain in my breast. And I do. Yet it’s not enough for me to scream or tell him to stop. I don’t want him to stop. I want him to keep going. Do more.

Do… anything…

My left wrist is in Tyrant’s hand and he lifts my hand toward his mouth. He curls my fingers down, except my pointer finger. As my jaw slowly starts to open, his mouth moves toward my finger. He takes the tip of my finger into his mouth.

The same tip that had just been back there… pushing into my ass at his command.

Tyrant pulls my finger out of his mouth with a wet popping sound. He then lifts his mask, showing his face to me.

His perfect jawline. His thin lips. A strong nose. Those evil looking eyes. His hair, getting more and more wet as the shower water hits his head. I’ve never seen someone look so sexy before. At the same time I want him to take his clothes off. All of them. I want to see his body. All of it.

It’s not up to me to decide. It’s Tyrant’s decision. Everything is his decision.

Including what happens next to my body.