I sob as I feel utterly broken. So used without my own release.
“Shhhhh,” he says softly as he pulls out of me and begins releasing my arms.
My sobs turn embarrassingly ugly as I let the pain out. All of the pain I’ve felt for the past weeks. All of the loss. The loss of my control. The loss of my family. The loss of my empire.
I let out big, bellied, retched sobs as he pulls me to his chest. All I can do is sniffle as snot and tears mix into one stream as they run down my face.
Hayden scoops me up into his chest as he covers us with the bed sheets, and I curl into him, dying for his warmth. Hungry for his protection, desperate for his control.
“Please,” I cry, unsure of what I’m asking for.
“It’s okay, my darling,” he mumbles into my wet hair, holding me close.
I quiver and shake into his chest as he grips me close, my sobs impossibly loud.
“Shhhh, your only responsibility is to be my perfect little whore and nothing else. You need to behave, let go, and leave the world to me,” he mumbles into my hair.
And I realize.
Without his pain.
Without my submission.
Without his prison.
I would never be as free as I am now.
Chapter twenty-three
Hayden Herron
Ipush the bathroom door open without knocking. The steam from her shower still clings to the air, the room covered in a gentle fog. She's standing at the sink naked, barefoot, with her full breasts on display.
My only regret from last night is that there are no bite marks on them.
She’s brushing her teeth at the mirror slowly, as if she hadn’t just received terrifying and gratifying news just a few hours ago.
Her resilience would have angered me when my primary focus was breaking her down, but now, instead, I feel a sense of pride blossoming in my chest.
Total submission takes bravery, and it’s been a long time since I first started watching her, knowing that eventually I’d break her.
My little whore still has a ways to go. I want her to lean into my hand like a sweet little pet when I slap her in the face. I want her to run to me and kneel when I get home, anticipating whatever I decide she needs, because without me, she’s without the ability to think.
I loved having her fall apart to her bare bones in my arms last night. To see her so stripped bare, with nothing but the ability to cling to me as she sobbed, is precisely what I’ve been needing from her.
To let go. To submit to her life. She had been holding it in too long. Denying what we both know to be true. She’s no longer the woman she was. She belongs to me now.
And her eyes are currently giving it all away.
Red-rimmed and glossy. Her dark eyes are so swollen from crying, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
She startles when she sees me, but it doesn’t stop my advantage. I step behind her, take the toothbrush from her hand without a word, and toss it into the sink. Then I kiss her, not caring about the toothpaste smearing on our lips. Her breath catches once my lips find hers, and the taste of mint and salt overtakes me. She makes a soft noise against me like she wants to resist but doesn’t know how anymore. What I’m sure is a protest comes out as a mewl instead.
Good.
When I pull back, she looks up at me, as if she’s waiting for something. Maybe comfort. Or punishment? I give her neither, as I prefer her teetering on the edge of apprehension.
It’s her fear I crave the most, but her anticipation has become so intoxicating I’m starting to crave it more.
