Still, I opened my mouth, knowing better than to push him any further. He smirked with sick delight and shoved the bar over my lips and against my tongue. The bitterness hit instantly. I gagged at the harsh, chemical taste.
“Bite down, bitch. And don’t let it drop. You hear me?”
I clamped my lips around it, the vile flavor coating my tongue like poison. My stomach lurched, fighting the urge to dry heave. Then I saw him grab the hairbrush from the other end of the sink. His grip tightened around the handle as if it were a weapon.
“I’m going to whack your ass good and hard. I’m in charge here, not you, green eyes. And if that bar slips from your mouth, I’ll grab the cane and beat you worse than I did my own brothers. Understood?”
I nodded, a single tear escaping the corner of my eye.
This man wasn’t just cruel. He was the fucking devil.
I braced myself.
He inhaled slowly, deep and controlled, then brought the brush down with brutal force across my backside.
The sting exploded through my skin. I jerked forward with a muffled cry, the soap still clenched between my teeth.
His voice was harsh, angry and threatening.
“You’ll learn to keep that rotten pie hole shut, even if I have to skin you alive! I want to hear yousuckon that soap.”
Tears trickled from my eyes, pooling against the porcelain. I sucked on the bitter bar, fighting the urge to vomit.
It was the nastiest shit I’d ever tasted….chemical, chalky and just gross! The brush landed hard and viciously across my ass, each strike forcing me forward with a jolt.
But I didn’t let the soap fall. I refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream.
Low moans pushed past the bar clenched between my teeth. “Ugh... ugh... ugh…” was all I allowed.
I zoned out, drifting somewhere else.
I thought about Atlas. Of how he spanked me, but not likethis. With him, it was different; delicious and dirty. I remembered the butterfly vibrator strapped tightly between my thighs, the way he’d watch me squirm and sob in pleasure. He made me into his pain slut—his. And I fucking loved it.
God, the orgasms. The way he held me after. His rough hands, his kisses, the way he murmured my name.
I missed him so much it hurt.
So I relaxed.
My body floated the way he taught me to during his training, my mind slipping from this nightmare, finding comfort in my thoughts of the one man who made pain feel like pleasure. I leaned into each strike, lost in my dreams of Atlas. Focusing on his scent, his voice, and his handsome face.
Clenching my thighs together, I felt my sex throb. A low moan escaped my lips, my backside now numb from the repeated whacks. Hector's surprised voice pulled me out of my fantasy.
"What the fuck?" He threw the brush onto the floor.
"Are you enjoying this?"
I shook my head, still sucking on the nasty soap, as I was brought back to reality. The vile cartel grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling me away from the sink. I almost lost the bar when a loud gasp escaped my lips.
Thank God I bit down before it slipped from my mouth. He pushed me to my knees. The floor stung beneath my skin. My ass throbbed with heat.
I held my tears back.
He let go of my hair and crouched beside me, pulling the vile bar from my mouth. He lifted my chin with his finger, forcing me to look into his dead eyes.
"Who trained you to take a beating?" He demanded. He raised a brow, with an evil smirk on his face.
"I want the fucking truth. Don't piss me off more than you already have because I'll have no problem bending you over and brutally fucking you in both holes. Spill it!"
