Page 46 of Cruel God

I snapped the belt between my hands once more, the snap resounding around us, and I noticed her sharp inhale of breath. “Because you admitted you did wrong and are so willing to accept your punishment, I think five lashes will suffice.”

“Thank you, master.”

Good God, this woman was the closest thing to perfection I’d ever fucking own. Nothing compared to her. She accepted her punishment like I was doing her a fucking favor—which was exactly the way she had been taught.

I drew up, and with a rush, the belt sliced through the air and landed with a loud crack right across her ass cheeks.

The red line instantly swelled, blooming with shades of pink and red. I inhaled sharply with the feeling of power and ownership that possessed me. It was in my blood, the cruel need to inflict pain and to extract submission. It was the black tar running in my fucking veins.

The second and third lash landed in quick succession, causing Hope to cry out. The sound was fucking hypnotic, like a sweet, filthy, sadistic melody, and my cock loved the way her pain echoed in her cries.

“You will never disobey me again. Understand?”

She sucked in a breath. “I will never disobey you again.”

There was no time for her to anticipate the fourth lash, and as it landed on her upper thighs, her scream filled the space around us, slamming against my chest. The first three lashes began to turn into grotesque purple welts as blood rushed to the surface. It was twisted and warped the way my dick grew impossibly hard; it fucking hurt. The monster in me became stronger as I watched her body squirm in anguish and her skin blush with a burn.

“Last one, Butterfly. Then your punishment is over.”

As I lifted my right hand, the leather dangling down my arm, Hope pinched her eyes closed and bit her lower lip. The thwack of the last hit resounded, followed by Hope’s high-pitched cry that tore from her throat. The way her scream slammed against my chest smothered the thrill that rippled throughout my body mere seconds ago. I had pushed her far enough. Not just physically, but mentally as well, denying her my cock. Denying her the one thing—the only thing she had to escape, to feel good by letting her come. I was all she had. Me and this potent connection that defined us. And I had denied her the confirmation she needed to know that she and I, we will always be. Nothing will ever fucking take her from me or change how things were between us.

Beautifully toxic.

I dropped the belt, grabbed the red, burning flesh of her ass and spread her wide open, so I could I suck her wet pussy lips into my mouth. Groaning in the back of my throat as her scent and taste overpowered all my fucking senses, I lapped her sensitive folds, sucking and kissing, licking around her entrance—and I wasn’t fucking gentle about it. A frenzy of lust, passion, desire—of my affection for this woman ripped through my insides, and I just couldn’t get enough. There was no way I could have stopped myself. The compelling need to give her pleasure after inflicting so much pain buzzing in my blood.

I heard her suck in a breath as I started to work my mouth against her cunt. It was seconds before her cries of agony turned into moans of pleasure. The sweet taste of her pussy danced across my tongue, sending me on a wild, greedy hysteria of lust and hunger. With my hands still spreading her ass and thighs apart, I forced her to move her hips, to fuck my mouth. Her body rocked back and forth, her moans growing louder as I continued to suck, kiss, and lick every inch of her.

“Sir, I’m going to…please…can I—”

“Yes, you can come for me, Butterfly.”

Her hips rocked faster, harder, her moans echoing with ecstasy. The second her release exploded on my tongue; her entire body shuddered as the tremors of pleasure wracked through her. She cried out, and I sucked her pussy lips hard into my mouth, milking every ounce of her climax from her body. Tasting her, having her come in my mouth was fucking exhilarating. It was worth every second spent in agony without her. It was worth every drop of blood I had on my hands for her. Every lie I had told to protect her.

Shewas worth everything. Even me giving up my life for.

Her body went limp from exertion, from finally getting a release of the torturous lust that had her cuffed and bound for days. Immediately I reached for the key and unlocked the cuffs around her wrists. The second she was free, she fell flat on the mattress, weak and entirely spent, her ass the most beautiful shade of pink.

Looking down at the marks I had left on her skin and witnessing how utterly spent and satisfied she was—it was a devastatingly beautiful sight. It was the most powerful form of confirmation I could ever have had—a testimony to the hold and control I had over her. Something I would never give up.

The emptiness she felt while I denied her was a much crueler fate than being entirely at a man’s mercy and enduring the poisoned claws of the corrupt. The emptiness consumed her. Pained her. Broke her. And I knew this. The substantiation of my rule over her body, mind, and soul was so fucking clear. I was a fool ever to doubt it simply because a memory of her bastard brother made her laugh.

I towered over her, allowing my gaze to travel up and down her naked body, appreciating every curve, every inch of flawless skin—even the red, raw lashes were fucking perfect. The image of her pretty face and thick, lush hair splayed over the sheets had me holding my breath as I admired her. My Hope. The girl who had kept hell from swallowing me whole. The woman who silenced the demons—who silenced the voice of my long-dead father.

While I stood there, my cock still hard and throbbing with the need to fuck, I merely just looked at her as she quickly drifted to sleep. I drank her in, committing the picture-perfect image of her to memory. The selfish fucker in me could have easily woken her so I could bury my cock inside her, while the sick fuck in me would just take her while she slept. Rock and ride her body through her slumber. There was no moral substance in me that would have me think twice about fucking her while she slept. In fact, it wouldn’t be the first time. There were nights when I had milked every drop of energy from her, used her, exhausted her to such an extent she would pass out while still gagged and tied to the Saint Andrew’s cross. And I’d still fuck her while her head lolled, and I wouldn’t feel an ounce of remorse. She was mine. I owned her, which meant I had the right to take her whenever and however I wanted.

But not today. Today the warmth that lingered in my chest overruled the ache in my dick.

A gentle moan floated from her lips as she settled into a deep sleep, and I leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her temple. “You and me, forever, Butterfly,” I rasped against her ear and brushed a strand of golden-brown hair from her cheek.

Inside the bedside table were some salve and soothing oils, which I used to nurse her marred flesh. Time stood still while I rubbed my palm tenderly across her inflamed, raw skin. Whether it was minutes or hours, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I was too entranced by the enticing shades of pinks, reds, and soft purples of the lashes my demons had left on her body.

My father was right.

He was so fucking right.

‘It’s in your blood…’

Chapter 17

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