Page 16 of True Bastard
Chapter Ten
Kyllian
“I’m going to kick your fucking ass!” I screamed as the cold air hit my bare ass, the raw fury a shield against my gnawing fear.
I meant it too.
When I got out of this place, I was going to make his life a living fucking hell. I didn’t ask to be mixed up in Jessup’s shit. I didn’t ask to be kidnapped and brought here, and I sure as hell didn’t ask to be locked away in his fucking bedroom for hours without food or water. My give-a-fuck-meter evaporated hours ago. I didn’t give a shit who this brute thought he was, but if he thought I was just going to lay here and let him spank me, he had another think coming.
Fighting as hard as I could, I couldn’t break his hold. The fucker was strong. Stronger than me. But when I heard the son of a bitch chuckle, a new fury erupted deep within me. My mind raced, cataloging escape routes, but every wall was solid, every door locked. He wanted to break me, to make me submit, and a part of me, a dark, twisted part, was wondering what would happen if I did.
WHAT THE FUCK?!
Nope, I wasn’t going there. The thought made me sick. I’d always prided myself on my defiance, on never letting anyone truly control me. But here, bound and vulnerable, that belief felt like a hollow echo. I didn’t know this fucker, and after beinglocked up for hours, I didn’t want to. All I cared about was finding a way out of this place and running away to some place where he could never find me.
That was until his fucking hand met my ass.
SMACK!
My body froze. All thoughts fled my mind, and the air evaporated from my lungs as a slow burn formed across my ass. The indignity of the act robbed me of every fucking brain cell in my head. A whimper, an involuntary and humiliating whimper, escaped my lips. Shame flooded me, hotter than the sting on my skin. I had sworn I would never let myself be this helpless, this broken. But now, in this moment, it was happening, and the worst part was the creeping realization that a sliver of me, a sliver I detested, wanted the pain to stop, even if it meant a different kind of surrender.
I had to resist, had to find a way to fight back, but my muscles refused to obey, locked in a paralyzing mix of pain and despair. I was failing myself, and the knowledge was a brand even deeper than the one on my skin.
“Repeat after me.” His voice was smooth as silk, almost as if he were enjoying my degradation a little too much. “I will behave.”
“FUCK YOU!”
SMACK!
SMACK!
My entire body recoiled from the stinging blows. Raw humiliation washed over me, eclipsing the pain. Tears welled in my eyes, hot and angry, but I refused to let them fall. He wanted to see me break, to witness my utter surrender, and I would deny him that satisfaction. A low growl rumbled in my chest, a defiant sound that was more primal than words.
“You bastard. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I spat, my voice thick with a rage that burned hotter than any shame. “Youthink you’re some kind of god, don’t you? Ruling over your little kingdom, breaking women like they’re nothing.” My words were a desperate attempt to reclaim some agency, to push back against the suffocating control he exerted.
I would not be his plaything, his broken doll.
Not now, not ever.
“Oh, I’m enjoying it, Kitten,” he purred, the sound sending a tremor through my already battered body. His thumb stroked the curve of my bruised cheek, a gesture that was both sickeningly tender and terrifyingly possessive. “And you’re going to learn to enjoy it too. Or at least learn to accept it.” His implication was clear—a chilling promise that scraped against my soul. I was trapped, my defiance a mere spark against his inferno, and the cold certainty settled in that this was just the beginning.
“Over my dead fucking body.”
He chuckled, a low, menacing sound that rippled across my skin.
SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!
The heat from the sting on my ass was nothing compared to the burning humiliation that washed over me. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to do anything to reclaim some sliver of control, but my body remained frozen, a prisoner to his brute strength and my own shattered spirit.
The faint, almost imperceptible shift in his grip was the only warning I got before he pulled me closer, my bare skin still exposed, the scent of his leather and something intoxicatingly masculine filling my senses. “I can go all night, Kitten. What’s it going to be?”
“I’ll behave,” I choked out, my voice a raw whisper. My words tasted like surrender and defeat. With my eyes squeezed shut,the tears I’d fought so hard to hold back finally spilled over, blurring the already dark reality.
I was broken.
