Page 64 of Deviant Obsession

"Strip." When she hesitates, I step into her space, looming over her until our noses almost touch. "Now. Or I'll tear it all off."

Her hands shake as she peels off her clothes. The mark seems to glow against her pale thigh, mocking me. Claiming what should be mine.

"Arms up." I reach for the ceiling rig, adjusting a pair of leather cuffs to her height. She obeys without resistance, letting me secure her wrists until she's balanced on her tiptoes. The position forces her to stretch, displaying her luscious body like an offering.

I don’t bother to blindfold her. Don’t bother to warn her what I want to do to her, ask her for her safe words, or tell her why Iwant to punish her. This is barely a scene to me. This is just blind mania.

Because my brother’s initial will shine on her skin forever. And I can’t fuckingstand it.

"Dean… You're scaring me." Rhea whimpers a little, but it’s not that adorable sound I’m used to when I’m driving her wild. This is genuine uncertainty.

"Good. I’ve been too easy on you so far." I trail my hands down her exposed sides, pinching and squeezing her soft curves while she squirms, just because I can. I have her here at my mercy and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with her.

My fingers find her pussy, already slick with arousal despite her fear. Or maybe because of it. Rhea’s as fucked up as I am, and even if she doesn’t know how far I’ll go to teach her a lesson, she loves this shit. I slide two fingers inside without warning, making her gasp and moan despite her apprehension.

"See how wet you are," I growl against her neck. "Your body knows who it belongs to, even if your head is confused."

I work my fingers in and out of that pretty cunt, weeks of learning every inch of her informing my every move. I know how to drive her wild without hardly trying. And sure enough, her thighs start trembling as she quickly approaches the edge. But just before she tips over, I pull away completely.

"No! Dean,please!"

"Please what?" My fingers ghost over her flushed cheeks until she looks at me. "Please let you come? Please forgive you for letting another man mark what's mine?"

"What do you mean yours?" she sobs as I start again, slower this time. "I don’t understand. I didn’t mean?—”

"Didn't mean to let him brand you?" I curl my fingers making her cry out as I bring her right back to the precipice. "Didn't mean to give him that power over you?"

Again, I bring her to the edge. Again, I deny her release. Her whole body shakes now, sweat gleaming on her chest. Her blatant desperation would usually satisfy me, soothe the rage as I watch her endure her punishment. But it only burns hotter every time I glimpse that fucking mark.

"You think his little carved initial means anything?" My free hand grips her jaw, forcing her to meet my eyes every time she looks away or lets her eyelids fall closed. "I can make you forget your own name, much less his."

Silent tears streak down her cheeks as I start a third time, determined to break her completely. To remind her body and soul who truly owns her pleasure. And her pain.

She doesn’t say the only word that would stop me.

Time loses meaning as I torture her, each denied orgasm dragging her way past the point of enjoyment and through to the excruciating frustration I intend to wield like my own sharp weapon. Those perfect breasts heave with each desperate breath, and I know her shoulders must be screaming with the strain of dangling for so long.

Still, she doesn’t stop me.

"Who do you belong to?" I demand, fingers still working mercilessly between her thighs. She's so sensitive now that even the lightest touch makes her keen.

"Please..." The plea comes out broken, barely audible.

"Answer me." I add another finger and fuck her faster, feeling her clench around me as if she’s holding back her climax for dear life. "Who owns this body? Who controls your pleasure?"

She shakes her head wildly, tears still streaming with no end in sight. “I don’t—I can’t?—”

"Wrong answer." I withdraw again, leaving her empty and aching before I land a sharp slap on her swollen clit. My eyes fixate on that damned ‘E’, fueling fresh waves of pure wrath. "Try again."

"Dean, please stop," she sobs. "I can't take anymore."

"You can and you will. Until you tell me who you truly belong to."

Something snaps in her then. The dam breaks and barely coherent words pour out between heaving sobs.

"I d-don't know!" she screams, thrashing against the restraints like a captured animal. "I don't know anymore! I want you both! Why are you doing this to me?”

The desperate question makes me pause. I know now without a doubt that this punishment doesn’t make any sense to her. I’ve dragged her through my jealous tantrum without considering for a second that she might not deserve it.

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