Page 59 of Vicious

CHAPTER 15

May

Chase sets me down gently onto the bed, face down. I instinctively cling to the sheets, shivering when I see him approaching me with the small fabric scissors. What’s he going to do now? What else is he going to destroy?

It doesn’t feel like there’s much left of me for him to cut to ribbons.

All he does is cut the flimsy costume off, though. The lingerie fabric drags against my skin, almost like a harsh cut of its own. He unbuckles the harness and pulls that off.

I feel his hand on the tail, next, and the thought of him fucking me again makes me sob. It’s a relief when he pulls it out of me entirely, though I half expect him to drive it back into me. It’s only when I hear it thud on the floor that I relax just a fraction.

“Shh,” he whispers, brushing my hair aside. “You’re doing all right.”

I shudder, my entire body trembling as he touches me.

I hate him.

Wo ai ni, I hear his voice echo in my mind, and I can feel the cuts on my back shift as I shiver again.

He cuts the stockings off of me too, and it isn’t until now that I realize I lost the heels somewhere along the way. It seems like he’s trying not to jostle me too much, but every little movement makes my back burn.

He leaves me alone for a few blessed seconds but comes back with a wet washcloth. The water seems so cool in comparison to my heated body.

He wipes me down everywhere. My face, my arms, between my legs and my folds. He wipes between my ass cheeks, even.

When he’s done with all that, he leaves to get a new cloth and begins working on my back.

It should hurt. It does hurt.

But the sting soothes me the way pain often does, and my mind starts to turn hazy again. I stare off at the wall while he wipes away the blood and rubs a cooling cream onto my back.

I don’t understand why he’s being so tender. How can a man who whips people for fun be so fucking gentle as he places bandages over my wounds?

For fun, and for punishment, and…

I don’t even know anymore.

Tears well up in my eyes and I sob again.

Why can’t I stop crying?

He leans down and kisses my shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, Ah-May.”

I stay quiet for a long time, not sure what to say to that. I want to be indignant—how dare he tell me I’m beautiful when I’m falling apart right in front of him?—but I just can’t muster the energy.

But I’m so scared more is going to come, and maybe that’s why I finally manage to say, “I didn’t… didn’t mean to…”

“You’ve been punished, and you’re forgiven,” he says in a gentle voice, one that’s too soft for words following the brutality of what he’d just done.

I bury my face against the pillow, wiping away my tears and trying so hard not to let any more fall. I’m not this person. I don’t cry like this.

But I don’t feel like myself right now.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, gently petting my head. “I’m just going to clean up a bit, all right?”

He’s going to leave me alone.

I’m going to be alone in this room again.

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