Page 19 of Eden's Deliverance

I’m not going to go the easy way.

“So that’s how it is, huh? You’re a fucking brat.” His hand comes up and wraps around my throat—not tight enough to choke me, but enough to prove he’s in control.“Can’t say I mind it. I’ve been waiting to break you in…break you down. I’ve even dreamt about it, you know. How to make you mine.”

He dreamed about me?

I’m not sure if this is more flattery meant to sweeten me up, but it doesn’t seem to be. His thumb strokes my pulse point with a gentle reverence, as if he’s savoring the moment.

Just by how he’s acting, I can tell he wasn’t happy about how things ended during our last session. He would have done more—he wanted to—and he’s been regretting it ever since.

My throat bobs against the palm of his hand when I swallow, taking a gulp of air before asking, “Even though we’re not in the Red Room? You haven’t even had me in a normal room. How could you possibly know that you want me—”

“Did I ask for your opinion? Good little girls keep their mouths shut.” He tightens the grip around my neck, and in an instinctual panic, I grab his wrist with both my hands. “You’ll see one day, but the Red Roomismy normal room. It’s where I do my best work.”

My nails dig into his skin, but he doesn’t ease up. “I’m not go-ing there, so get it th-rough your big f-ucking head,” I struggle to get the words out—on account of the fact he’s nearly strangling me—but I fully intend to act the brat he’s accusing me of being.

The impact of his fingertips meeting my cheek leaves a throbbing sting. My lips part on a gasp, but he doesn’t give me a moment to recover before pulling me in closer. He pants against my open mouth until we’re forced to share the same cloud of hot air.

“Clothes off,now. Get on the bed,” he hisses through bared teeth. “I’ll show you what a big head looks like.”

He shoves me backwards, the pressure on my esophagus causing me to gag and sputter as I stumble across the room. I collapse to my knees, but just when I rear up to charge at him, he points a finger at me in warning.

I shouldn’t be so turned on, but I’ve never been slapped before and it’s doing something to me—something terribly mind-altering.

Choosing to play obediently for now, I carefully strip off my knee-high boots and red dress, then place them neatly on the nightstand.

The longer he spends watching me, the more impatient he becomes. “Allof your clothing. Let’s go.”

I shoot him a nasty glance over my shoulder before removing my bra and panties. I know he’s seen me naked before, but it’s not easy to ignore the fact he’s standing there fully clothed while I’m forced on display.

The man walks up to me, completely unbothered when I cross my arms over my chest to cover up. “Bed…now. On your knees with your arms behind your back.”

I do as instructed, despite the curiosity tingling up my spine when I hear him rummaging through the cabinet. “See? You do know how to behave. Wouldn’t you rather be rewarded than punished?” he asks sardonically.

The shuffling sounds behind me cease, and it’s made clear he wasn’t asking rhetorically; he actually wants me to answer. What a pretentious piece of shit.

I scoff instead. “Is that what this is, or just more teas—”

SMACK.

The whack to my ass knocks me forward, but supporting myself with my hands only puts me in prime position for more abuse when I bite back, “You motherfuck—”

SMACK.

Dragging me by the hair into a kneeling position again, he holds me still and starts wrapping something around my upper arms. “Shut your mouth, before I give you something to really cry about, Sca—” he pauses to catch his breath, already winded from wrestling my arms together. “Scream all you want; it won’t matter in a second.”

Two cuffs are strapped around my biceps, and a cold piece of leather hangs down my back from between them. It’s got my shoulders pulled so tightly I can’t move an inch.

With my arms now locked in place, he forces me to bend my elbows and lay my forearms parallel on top of each other. Another leather contraption bindsthem together, and a buckle keeps them trapped. The only thing I still have control over is my hands.

I hear him moving again behind my back, and though I’m anxious for what he has in store, my heart is racing dangerously fast. In an attempt to get clearance and keep my panic at bay, I ask, “Why? What are you—”

Before I can finish, he hooks two metal pieces into the inside of my cheeks. My gut drops when I realize what the device is, but struggling is futile. He wastes no time wrangling me down to secure the buckle at the back of my head, stretching at the corners of my mouth until it hangs wide open.

“That would be why,” he points out, circling the bed to step in front of me.

I put up a real fight and he’s sweating now, looking entirely flustered as he runs his fingers through his hair. The image of him just riles me up more.

He’s beautiful, and I can’t help but think how lucky I am to have him like this when it might have been that blonde girl in my place tonight.

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