Last night, after he pulled out of me, I collapsed, my body so weak, I couldn’t even force myself to take a real breath.
I remembered feeling him unclasp my cuffs and pick me up. I remembered curling into his chest, feeling his heart beat solidly against me, his body warm, unrelenting.
I had never felt so safe.
I also remembered crying.
A lot.
I couldn’t stop myself. I had curled into him, feeling exactly like the doll he called me, and I had sobbed silently into his chest. That’s the last thing I remembered.
I swallowed, my throat raw. A hot shower sounded like exactly what I needed.
~ ~ ~
An hour later, I was headed down the hall, wearing a beautiful black dress that fell to mid-thigh.
The shower had burned. I had forgotten about him carving into my chest. The upside down cross went across my breasts, down towards my belly button and up to the hollow of my throat.It was deep and unforgiving, but a clear sign to the world that I now belonged to Azrael. It was a physical claim on me, just as the bitemarks on my thighs were. Proof that I was no longer a prisoner of the church but a prisoner of him.
It only made my sore cunt throb.
The dress I had covered very little of the marks he left on my thighs, and the gauze on my chest was there for all to see. He was right, I would have to keep wearing collared clothes when we returned to church to continue on our mission.
Our.
He had called it our mission.
I padded barefoot down the hall, and it felt emptier than it had yesterday. Today there was no one.
I was all alone, but…
Not really. Azrael had said that I was never alone. My eyes lifted to the ceiling, scanning everywhere I could think of in search of the cameras.
My whole life I had been on a camera, but this was the first time I didn’t really mind. Was he watching me right now? I hoped I looked as pretty as he wanted me to look. I cleaned up, I put on a little mascara and some pink, glittery lip gloss. I watched Thomas enough to know the basics of makeup and what I didn’t like.
I knew I had bruises on my neck, my hips, and my thighs. Everywhere he had touched, he had left a bruise, but he seemed like the kind of man who would see them and feel pride. I wanted him to see them and feel pride. I wanted him to want to leave more, despite the sense of nervousness I felt at seeing him after yesterday.
Married, and I still wanted him drunk on me. I wondered if I could make him more obsessed than he already was.
I never made it to the office yesterday, and I certainly had no idea where the room I had woken up in was, but I knew I was on the third floor which was a start.
Still, it took me a half an hour to finally open the right door.
My heart immediately thudded when I caught sight of Azrael sitting behind a beautiful, large oak desk.
His sleeves were pushed up on his arms, no tie to be seen, the top button of his shirt undone.
His eyes had already been up when I walked in, telling me that he had, in fact, been watching me roam the halls.
I quickly looked around as I stepped in. It was a large, circular room, floor to ceiling windows lining half the room on the far side.
There were four large desks set up, although two of them were empty, along with bookcases filled with books, plants, and even couches.
My eyes lingered on the view out the windows as I slowly walked towards his desk, feeling his and Havoc’s eyes on me.
It was another endless sea of trees.
Besides the driveway, it didn’t seem to matter what window I looked out, there were just trees. No city in sight, no other soul except for us.
