Page 149 of Alchemised
Ferron’s eyes gleamed. “I admit, I enjoy the professionalism,” he said with a shrug. “Clear lines. No expectations. And I don’t have to pretend I care.” His lip curled at the last word, as though caring were the most offensive concept known to man.
“Of course. How very you.”
“Quite,” he agreed with a thin smile.
She wished she could hurt him, that there was a way for her to do it that counted.
He hurt her so much, without even trying, without needing to know anything about her. He’d simply spoken her name and reduced her to property, his whims locking an iron chain around her throat.
“Do you talk to them, tell them all about the tragic life you’ve had? Or are you just in and out, quick as you can?” she asked, her voice lilting with the taunt.
His eyes flashed.
“Want me to show you?” His voice was sharp and cold as a splinter of ice.
She met his eyes and raised her chin. “You won’t.”
His expression hardened. She knew that she could goad him if she kept going.
She’d finally get it over with, stop enduring Crowther and Ilva’s search for signs that she’d been ravished or ravaged. Stop lying awake at night, cold with dread, wondering when it would finally happen. She was sick of waiting. Of wondering on and on. Like bracing for a sword to fall.
She kept talking. “It would be too real for you, wouldn’t it? If it was someone you knew. I think that’s why you haven’t. You’re afraid I’ll mess with those clear lines, so you’re making up all these excuses about needing to train me.”
The muscle in his jaw rippled.
“Testing me, Marino?” His voice was cool, like the flat side of a knife blade.
She didn’t blink. “Yes. I am.”
There. She’d done it now.
He walked towards her across that cold, filthy room, and rather than quicken, her heart slowed. Each beat heavy, drawn out as he leaned forward until their eyes were level.
“Strip.”
It was all he said.
She couldn’t move.
She knew she was supposed to do whatever he wanted. That was the deal she’d made. And she’d wanted it to be over, but now her body wouldn’t obey.
She stood frozen. The tenement was nothing but an empty room with a chipped tile floor and a wooden table, and every aspect of Ferron that she could read screamed that he was about to exact a profound degree of cruelty upon her.
“I see now.” He smiled like a wolf. All teeth. “It’s been killing you, hasn’t it? Wondering. You expected me to do this to you right off. The waiting—trying to guess when I might get around to it—that bothers you more than having to fuck me. Well, you have your wish. Take your clothes off, Marino.”
She barely managed to swallow. Her ears were ringing until she could scarcely hear herself think.
He wasn’t even aroused. She could tell. He was doing it to teach her a lesson.
Crowther was wrong. He was so desperate to get some kind of leverage on Ferron, he’d convinced himself of some kind of slowly germinating obsession, but there wasn’t any. Ferron had simply identified what Crowther wanted to believe about him.
The whole mission was pointless.
Her jaw began to tremble uncontrollably. “You don’t even want me. Why did you ask for me?”
He laughed. “You’re right, I don’t want you, but owning you will never get old. As long as you live. What a promise to make. I wonder how much I can make you regret it.” His teeth flashed again. “Take your clothes off, Marino. It’s time to see what I’ve been paying for.”
Her hands trembled as she reached up and began unfastening the top button of her shirt.
