Page 61 of Slaughter

“Fuck you, Avery!” I snap.

He comes beside the bed and starts petting my hair. I jerk my head away from him. Then he grips a fistful and yanks my head back and off the bed just like he did last night.

“Don’t,” he warns, glaring down at me. “Don’t make this harder than necessary, Bunny.”

“Then let me go.”

He sighs, full of disappointment that I won’t just accept my fate. “There is nowhere for you to go.”

My stomach sinks at that. I fight my restraints. “Just take me home, Avery.”

His hard blue eyes search mine, and after a long second, they start to soften. “You’re not safe there, Bunny.”

“I’m not safe here.”

“I assure you, you are. Trust me.”

Trust him? After everything I have been through because of him, he wants me to trust him? I can’t do it. But I really don’t have any other option either. I’m his prisoner. His slave.

He releases my hair, and my face falls to the bed. His hand trails down over my back and grips the chain that connects the cuffs. “Have you learned your lesson?”

I dig my face into the pillow. He slaps my ass when I don’t answer.

“Yes,” I grind out.

“Are you done trying to outsmart me?”

“Yes.” Lie! I’ll win … eventually. I wasn’t raised to be a quitter. He knows that.

“I don’t want to keep you tied to your bed, Bunny, but I will if I have to. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.” I shove my head into the bed again. Maybe I can suffocate myself to the point he’ll uncuff me, and then I’ll attack.

Then his hand trails lower and falls between my legs. I stiffen. I know his game. It wasn’t hard to figure out. He withholds sex and orgasms from me, but he can’t keep his hands off me. I can work that to my advantage. Plus, the need to be fucked is so great. I raise my hips to open myself up for him, already knowing just how far he will take it.

“Your pussy is wet like last time,” he muses. “Maybe you like being treated this way.”

My breath comes quicker as he slides a finger into me. “Please.” I beg like the good slave he wants me to be.

“Please what?”

“Let me come.”

He removes his finger, and I can’t hold back the growl of frustration.

“No,” he says simply.

Then I feel him undoing my ankles. “Turn over.”

I roll over and look up at him. Blue eyes that I used to love look so foreign now. Like a stranger just passing by. But anyone could see the clouds in them. The anger. The bloodlust. Even though he’s dressed in an expensive suit, he’s become an animal that craves madness.

“The rules still apply, Bunny. No touching yourself.”

“But …”

“Sit up,” he orders, and I do as he says. He reaches behind me and undoes my wrists. I prefer those over the ropes as they don’t get tighter as time goes by.

I rub them, and he stands to look down at me. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs for breakfast.” Then he walks out.

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