by Zoey Marcel
“Fine, your former feelings. When did you become intimate with him?”
The question outraged her, but Chanel gulped down her indignation and groaned her surrender when Brad circled her areola with his warm, wet tongue. “A few months after I moved in with him.”
“So you lived together?”
Damn it. She hadn’t meant to confide that much to him. “Yes, but I was just his employee.”
“And then you became his whore.” Brad said the word calmly and to the point as though he were merely stating a fact rather than hurling an insult at her.
She rolled her eyes and tried to get away from him, but he wouldn’t let her. “Yes, Brad. I was a little slut. Are you happy now, you chest-thumping ape?”
Brad swatted her pussy, invoking a startled cry of pain and need from her. His slow, devious smile was devilishly handsome, though his audacity left her irritated. “Care to rephrase that...slave?”
The word sent her plummeting into a well of fear and hopelessness. This was a sack session, nothing more. Once they left this room together, it would end and she would resume her independent identity again. He couldn’t take that from her as Lucius had. She wouldn’t let him.
Brad’s eyes challenged her, daring her to object to the title he’d dubbed her with.
“I’m not your slave,” she ground out with her jaw clenched.
“But you were his. Why did you become his slave?”
“It was just a game we played. Ouch!” Chanel glowered at him for delivering a fierce slap to her mound, softening her features to a more deferential expression when she saw the reprimanding glare he gave her.
“What did I say about lying?”
“All right, it wasn’t a game. He made it into a lifestyle for us.”
“He did? Your relationship wasn’t consensual?”
She rolled her eyes, cursing her vulnerability at the moment and his power. “Yes, it was consensual.”
“I see.” The clenched muscles in his face pulled his features into a hardened look of stone as he lowered his head and lightly grazed her nipple with his teeth.
She let out a wild gasp at the prickling contact that made her tingle beneath his skill. “Oh god, I want you. Stop teasing me and interrogating me.”
A sharp cry came barreling from her at the sudden slap on her naked cunt. The fiery heat quickly spread to her moist slit, making it drip with the need to be filled by him.
“Was it consensual when he beat you to a bloody pulp with a bullwhip?” Brad challenged. The sharpness in his tone was unmistakable.
“What happened in the woods a month ago was just me trying to save a bunch of children from becoming vampires.”
“And the other times he whipped you until you bled profusely? Were they consensual or did he force you into that as well?”
Her jaw dropped at his knowledge. “What makes you think he did that before?”
“I know he did. You seemed pretty damned mellow and accepting of your circumstances for someone who’d just been scourged to a bloody mess with a whip. He’s done that to you before, hasn’t he?”
Her eyes fell. “Yes, but I deserved it.”
“Did you ask him to stop?”
“Sometimes.”
“And did he?” Brad gently bit her boob when she didn’t answer him.
Chanel yelped and bucked, feeling heat pool in her belly when he used his hard, muscled thigh to pin her leg to the mattress to keep her from getting up. “No, but he took care of me and provided for me.”
“And because he made provision for your wants and needs that gave him the right to abuse you?”
“What? No! He didn’t abuse me. He just enjoyed hurting me, but I didn’t mind.”
Brad swirled his tongue around her nipple. “You said you asked him to stop hurting you.”
“Sometimes I did, yes.”
“And he didn’t stop. How did you ask him?”
Her breathing became harsh and ragged when his fingers stroked over her bare pussy, teasing the overly sensitive flesh. She arched into his mouth at the fervent suction on her tit. “Oh, Brad, stop! Please. I need you inside me.”
“Just like this?” He growled, warm breath fanning her moistened skin. “Did you beg him to stop hurting you the way you’re begging me to fuck you?”
Chanel panicked, struggling to move but unable to do so beneath his weight. “It doesn’t matter. He was good to the baby and to me. He didn’t judge any of my wanton desires.”
“It doesn’t matter how good he was to you. That doesn’t change the fact that he scared the shit out of you and abused you.” His stern eyes trapped hers and held them there. “That’s right, I said abuse.”
She shook her head frantically. “No. I wasn’t abused. I’ve always thought women who were beat up by men and stayed with them were stupid, but Lucius never punched me or kicked me. He just got carried away sometimes when he disciplined me, but he didn’t abuse me. I’m not that woman.”
“You are that woman, Chanel,” Brad argued, tone becoming fierce. He angled her chin so she couldn’t look away from him. “You begged him to stop hurting you and he didn’t. You tried to leave him and he killed your baby to punish you for it. He has you so scarred from what he did to you that you’re afraid to open up your heart and trust again. Even now you’re defending his supposed honor when it’s painfully obvious to everyone else that he has none.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Well, when he put it like that...“Why are you doing this to me? It hurts to talk about this. I’m not a victim.”
“Yes, you are. And you’ll keep being a victim until we get to the root of your fears.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. I want you to be a survivor, not a victim. I’m going to help you.”
“Oh, I’ll just bet you are. You’re going to punish and fuck me into a slave in the name of helping me. Great plan, Brad, but you forgot something. I’m older and wiser now to the cunning tricks of Doms. Sorry to spoil your fun.”
He clutched her wrists with his big hand and looked at her seriously. “I’m not him and I think deep down you know that and that’s what scares you. Because despite what you say, you do trust me now and you’re scared to. You’re worried I’m going to rip your heart out and destroy your faith in me like he did. But I won’t, Chanel, not ever, because I’m different.”
She smirked and averted her eyes, feeling chastised and put her in her place when he directed her jaw back to meet his scolding brown eyes.
“Don’t smirk at me.” Brad rebuked her with his silent stare for several long seconds before speaking again. “Don’t tell me you’re not that woman. For all the reasons I listed, you’re the epitome of that woman and it breaks my heart to see it.”
Chanel faltered in her resolve to deny every one of his theories about her. He was right and she knew that now. She dared to let her eyes wander from his, relieved that he didn’t make her look back at him this time.
“I know,” she said quietly. “Last month, when I met him in the woods just before he whipped me, I said something he didn’t like and he hit me for it.”
Brad’s dark eyes grew dangerous and his tone became spiked with rage. “He hit you?”
She nodded. “He didn’t use his fist.”
“What part of his hand he used is immaterial. I don’t want him slapping you, either.”
“He’d never done that before. When he did I was shocked. It finally occurred to me that he might be abusive.”
“Might be?” Brad snorted.
“How could I be so naive? How did I allow myself to be abused without realizing it?”
“Some people are experts with mind fucking others into believing what they want them to believe. But you’re safe now.” He cupped her cheeks, countenance glowing with affection for her, though his eyes became serious. “I’m going to bind you to the bed, Chanel.”
Her heart pounded in fear. “With silk ties?”
Brad reached behind him and held her searching gaze as he presented her
with the intended fetters. “With handcuffs.”
Her lips trembled and she felt unsure of how to respond to the news.
“I’m scared,” she whispered, hoping he’d back down.
His hand slid up her nape and his fingers splayed through her strands, stroking her scalp. “I know you are, but I’m giving you a safe word.”
A safe word—what a joke that was. “It’s just a word. It means nothing. You could ignore it and I’ll be chained and won’t be able to stop you from doing whatever you want to me.”
His fingers tangled in her hair possessively, and she felt his knuckles grind against her scalp when he made a fist there. “Did he give you a placebo safe word?”
Her eyes fell and she shuddered, recalling the stabbing pain on her hip when Lucius gave her that scar for doubting him.
Brad hooked a finger under her chin and positioned it to reinstate eye contact between them. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
The command was gentle but to the point, reinforcing his authority over her without scaring the crap out of her.
“Yes. Originally, he wouldn’t give me a safe word, because he said it proved I didn’t trust him. The first time we tried knife play I begged him for one and he acquiesced, but then later when I used it he didn’t listen.”
The cold memory of her terror at Lucius’s refusal to back down and the way she’d bawled and pleaded for him to unchain her and stop cutting her chilled her to the core. He hadn’t stopped. He’d ran the knife over her skin and lapped away the blood, seeming in that moment somehow demonic and soulless as he’d partaken of her forbidden life essence.
“You are completely helpless, Chanel. No one knows about the lifestyle we share, or that I have you naked and chained for my pleasure. When you think about it, there’s nothing stopping me from plunging this knife into your heart.”
She’d sobbed harder at his threat on her life, shivering when he drew near her face and licked away her tears.
“Don’t cry, slave. I would never kill you. I love you too much to end your life. And if you loved me back you wouldn’t request safe words from me. You would be strong enough and brave enough to take whatever I gave you. Your lack of trust in me pains me, Chanel.”
“I’m sorry,” she’d wept. “I do love you. I’m just so afraid.”
His fleeting smile had been sinister and petrified the tears still on her face.
“Your fear overshadows your affection for me. Doesn’t the good book say that perfect love casts out fear?”
“Yes, but—”
“Prove you love me, slave. Swear to me that you will never ask for another safe word again.”
“I won’t. I promise.” Chanel recalled how desperate she’d been to prove her allegiance to him despite her terror over what he was doing to her.
“I’m sure you’ve read in the bible how Jacob wrestled with an angel?”
She’d nodded, feeling chills creep up and down her spine that a man as dark and terrifying as Lucius actually possessed a certain degree of biblical knowledge.
“Then the angel touched Jacob’s hip and he limped ever after that, didn’t he? A constant reminder of his futile struggle with a being he never should’ve gone up against.” Lucius’s bone-chilling stare and the way he’d stroked the dull end of the knife over her hip bone sent a wild surge of terror crashing through her. “I’m going to mark you, slave, so that you never forget that I’m stronger than you. I’ve given you a home and a good life. Your parents would disown you if they knew you had a child out of wedlock, but I accept you for the wayward woman you are, don’t I?”
“Yes, Master.”
“And I understand those dark needs of yours and satisfy them for you without judgment or reproach, don’t I?”
“Yes, Master.”
“And in spite of all that, you have the gall to demand a safe word from me?” The displeasure in his eyes had plagued her with guilt. “All I ask for in return for all I’ve done for you is your submission. I’m not wrong in requiring it of you either, Chanel. You owe me a debt you can never repay. Doesn’t your bible also state that slaves are to obey their Masters? When you refuse to cooperate with me, you aren’t merely disobeying me, you’re rebelling against God.”
She’d shuddered, feeling ashamed of her defiance.
“I thought you were a Christian, Chanel.”
“I am.”
“Then why are you going against the bible? It says that rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft. I’m afraid for you, slave. God is displeased with your conduct and so am I.”
Chanel hadn’t been able to believe how much of the bible Lucius knew, or how shitty she felt for being a bad slave and Christian. “Please don’t say that, Master. I want to be good. Help me, please.”
“You need to be marked, Chanel.”
“Then mark me, please.”
His slow, devious grin had made her afraid even as it relieved her to know that she’d pleased her Master with her submission. “You asked for this. Never forget that. I’m not a monster, Chanel. You consented to being scarred by me.”
Chanel felt Brad’s eyes on her as her mind returned from the past to be safe and warm in his strong, loving arms again.
“Why didn’t you leave him when he refused to comply with your safe word request?” he asked.
“I wanted to be a good slave.” She shivered when his fingertips grazed the scar over her left hip.
“Did he give you this?”
“Yes, but I asked him to.” Had she?
Brad lifted a skeptical eyebrow at this. “You asked him to, or he manipulated you into accepting it?”
She sighed, glancing down at the covers. “He connived me into asking for it.”
Brad lightly pushed her back against the mattress and trailed the cuffs along her skin, thrilling the nerves there with the cold, threatening metal. “If you use your safe word with me, you have my word that I’ll abide by it. Your safe word is Lucius.”
Her eyes narrowed at this. “Very funny.”
He shot her a rebuking look. “Which part of that do you find humorous? By using your safe word it shows you don’t trust me yet and that’s fine. But make no mistake about it, every time you hold back with me and doubt me, you’re letting him win. I want you to remember that. I’ll honor your safe word, but you need to know what you’re really saying to me if you decide to use it.”
Chanel studied him in silence, knowing full well she could trust him, yet still afraid to do so. Her heart thumped with readiness when she saw him slowly slipping the topmost buttons on his shirt free from their holes as he held her longing gaze. The parting garment unveiled a key attached to a cord that he wore like a necklace around his thick neck.
He slipped it off and handed her the key. “You’ll be holding the key while you’re restrained. If at any point you get too scared to continue, or the flashbacks become too painful, just use your safe word or this key and everything stops.”
“Everything?”
“Just the session, sweetheart. I have no intention of leaving you...ever.”
She nodded slowly.
“Roll over.” Brad nudged her until she moved so he could prop two pillows beneath her and had her lay across them on her stomach while he cuffed her to the bed.
Chanel clutched the key tightly in her hand, somehow knowing she wouldn’t need to use it with him. He would let her out of the handcuffs if she asked him to, though a small part of her was still grateful for the key just in case.
Circumstances had the ability to change people. Of that much she was certain. Lucius had been a loving partner and a doting father, securing her trust and affection seemingly forever...and then he betrayed her. He altered Trevor forever and the frigid, heartless way Lucius had stared at her afterward while he made circles on her fractured wrist left her in a cold state of surreal desolation Chanel knew she would never recover from.
“It didn’t have to be this way. I loved you, Chanel.” He’d kissed her wrist gentl
y with hooded eyes before they lifted and flashed to a glowing yellow. “And then you broke my heart.”
She’d screamed into the gag when he snapped her wrist back into place, unsure which was the greater cause of suffering—his words, her insane worry over whatever had happened to Trevor in the other room, or the intense misery flaring all over her wrist.
“You’ll remember this, won’t you?” Lucius had sneered in an icy tone, glowing eyes reflecting a godless fury that simmered with unforgivable hatred. “Yes, cry for me, slave. You and you alone are responsible for Trevor’s fate.”
Chanel had jerked frantically against the cuffs, feeling them cut into her flesh, though her fracture dulled the pinching on that wrist. She saw him dowse a cloth with some sort of liquid. Just before he brought it down over her face, his eyes had changed back to pale blue and softened with the purest sincerity she’d ever seen in them.
“Never forget that I loved you,” he’d murmured.
Chanel couldn’t believe the powerful magnitude of her flashbacks as Brad handcuffed her to the bed and trailed his fingers up and down her back with harmless strokes that actually relaxed her, despite the harrowing memories being chained again evoked.
“You all right?” he asked.
She nodded, wincing and squealing when he pinched her left butt cheek.
“I want an answer, Chanel.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t call me ‘Sir.’ I’m your lover, not your Master. And I won’t be until you show me that you want to be my slave.”
She quivered at the familiar word, damning the memories associated with it. “I won’t ever agree to be your slave.”
“We’ll see about that.” He massaged her neck and shoulders before gradually working his way down her back. “Tell me about some of the other things he did to you.”
“We had sex and made out. There’s nothing else to tell.” Chanel gasped lightly, biting back a needy moan when he fisted his hand in her hair and tugged her head up.
“Don’t hold back with me, Chanel. I don’t want to hear about how he fucked you and you know it. I want you to tell me how he punished you and the different types of edge play you explored together.”
His no-nonsense tone of voice made her rethink her decision to hold back with him. “He tied me up and suspended me from ropes in the rafters.”
