Page 12 of Silent Ties

“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice is calm. Quiet. Factual. Dark eyes peek up and for a moment there’s an air of boyishness. “You married me. You’re my wife. My property, mine to do whatever I please. If I want to finger you in the bathtub, I’ll do it. If I want you on your knees, sucking my cock, it’ll happen. Your cunt is owned by me and guess what sweetheart, so is your soul.”

I shake my head. No one can own my soul.

He sighs, that same patronizing, ‘Ican’t believe I have to explain this to her’ look on his face.

“It is,” he declares. “Now come back here and lets finish our bath.”

How about not.

I stand up, water dripping offme.

“Sit back down.”

“I think I’ll sleep in the guest room.” We have several of those.

“That won’t be happening.”

I climb out of the bathtub, my skin hot despite the flush of cold. I’m searching for a towel when I hear him stand and do everything to avoid him.

“Russet.”

I don’t like the calm voice he uses. The façade.

“I’m going to—” My foot slips out from under me.

I’m saved from a faceplant when my husband grabs my elbow, but my ankle twists at an awkward angle.

Maxim sighs. “Of course, Marissa gave me a defective wife.”

Rude.

He picks me up, my hair pasting to wet skin and he marches us toward the bedroom. Unceremoniously, he throws me on the bed, a giant thing with tons of pillows and a satin duvet.

He carefully touches my ankle. I don’t bother to lift my defective self up. “This hurt?”

“It’s okay.” Not really, but I doubt he’d care.

My suspicions are correct when he smooths his hand over my leg, going up and up andslap.

Did this motherfucker just slap my pussy?

The way he meets my eyes as my mouth drops open tells me everything I need to know.

I married a sadist.

“Are you fucking serious?” I push up on the mattress, trying to get away.

He grabs my ankle, pulling me back. “It’s on you how this goes.”

His palm smacks my pussy again and I jump.

“This was your night for pleasure.” He looms over me, hisface as hard as marble. He appears just as frozen. But those eyes are nothing but fire. Like smoldering coal.

He leans in close, hovering over me. “Tell me who owns you and we’ll get back to the pleasure part.”

I don’t stop wiggling on the bed, my whole body vibrating.

“Though it looks like you’ve already got to the pleasure part.”

---