Page 93 of Devilish Ink

He slammed me roughly against the table which was positioned perpendicular to the floor.

He tore at my dress as he said, “We started the second you posted what you really wanted online.”

I gasped when he slapped my bare breast. There was no pleasure with this kind of pain. I could see it in his eyes: he wanted to hurt me. It had nothing to do with getting me off.

He got off on violence, pure violence.

“I’m leaving,” I said, but he pressed himself against me and rubbed his erection into my thigh.

“Yes,” he groaned, licking my throat. “Try and leave. I like it when they fight.”

He stuck his hand under my skirt.

I shoved him away. “I said stop, asshole.”

At first all I heard was the crack of his knuckles against my cheekbone. There was nothing at all as I fell to the cool metal floors.

But my vision went in and out. I gingerly touched my face, the hot pain came out of nowhere and left me breathless. I gasped for air, struggling to understand what the fuck just happened.

He wrenched me back by my hair. My scalp screamed as he pulled till I was forced to look into his insane eyes.

Leaning over me, his foul breath hit my face. “Disrespect me again and I’ll kill you, bitch.”

I believed him. Balor was rich enough, powerful enough that women like me were expendable for his fun. I should have known when I saw that look in his eyes.

Rules didn’t apply to him. If he went too far in this playroom of his, there would be no consequences for him.

Balor shoved me down roughly and was on top of me before I could squirm away. Pinning me down, he grabbed a whip from the stand.

I screamed when he brought it down hard on my exposed chest. I covered my face as he did it several more times.

When he crawled off of me, I looked around for something to fight back with. I reached for a thick chain, but he dragged me across the floor by my ankles.

The floor scraped my back and my dress rode up, my skin burning from the carpet.

He was heading toward a cage. Bile rose up in my throat. If he got me locked up in there, there would be no escape. Ever.

I kicked out and took him enough by surprise for him to drop my legs. I scrambled away into a corner of red velvet cushions, but he straddled the backs of my thighs before I could get away.

“Bitch,” Balor snarled.

My dress up around my waist, he shoved my panties aside and shoved a finger into me. I screamed at the pain of his violation.

I heard him unzipping his pants behind me.

No. I couldn’t just let him. I had to fight.

I flailed my hands out, reaching for something, anything. I knocked the table over with a crash, glass shattering and heavy metal toys rolling across the carpet.

Balor flipped me over to face him.

“I like a little fight. But not this much.”

His cock was out, big and angry red. Fear burned bitter through my blood.

“I’m going to fuck all your holes raw,” he said laughing, and then began to choke me.

This was not a love-necklace. His fingers crushed my windpipe, bruising my skin, cutting off all my air.

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