Trust Me (Rough Love 3)

He shut the door of the cage and I seethed in there, ass plugged, mouth plugged, his slave in disgrace. My hands were free. I could have reached behind my head and undone the gag. Nothing was stopping me but his possession and his will. He stood and watched me, hands on his hips, my unchallenged owner. My evil tormentor. He would always win, no matter the fight, no matter the consequence.

He held my gaze, wanting me to surrender, but sometimes I just couldn’t do it. Sometimes I felt so angry and frustrated within our dynamic that I wanted to explode. A shiver rocked me, and then I did explode, beating the bars with my fists. I wanted to bust them open, or at least bend them a little to show that he couldn’t control me completely. But I couldn’t do anything, because his cage was too strong, just as he was too strong.

When I finished my pointless tantrum, he knelt beside the cage and glared in at me. “Do it again,” he said in a terrifyingly calm voice, “and I’ll beat your ass until you can’t walk.” He reached between the bars and grabbed my hair, giving it a firm yank. “Behave, you fucking brat, or we’ll train in here all night.”

I ground my teeth against the rubber cock in my mouth and considered that threat. No, no more tonight. I knew my limits. I lay still in the damn cage and tried to relax my body until he was satisfied that I was under control. Then he opened the door and dragged me out, and positioned me on all fours beside the bars I’d chosen.

Because I’d chosen this prison.

I thought about that as he fucked me again, triple penetrated me with the gag in my mouth, the plug in my ass, and the cock driving inside me, gentler now, but still steady and firm and as endless as he could make it. I braced my arms on the floor and cried tears he couldn’t see as he pinched and twisted my sore nipples. When I arched my back up against him, begging without words for him to stop hurting me, he pinched my nipples harder. Drool and muffled sobs leached from behind my gag until he came inside my cringing body. I had chosen this. Even now, I had no desire to leave. Even now, all I wanted was to satisfy him.

Later, when I was clean and human again, he led me to the guest room, to the place I slept when I was in disgrace. I was allowed to talk now, but I chose not to. I had nothing to say that wouldn’t anger him or muddy the waters between us. Instead, I reminded myself silently, over and over, you chose this. You chose this. You chose this.

When I was settled under the covers, he sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at me with a probing expression. Even without words, without tears, he knew I was struggling. He knew that when I didn’t talk, I was the most upset of all.

“If you don’t like the things I do to you,” he said, “you can leave.”

I shook my head. “I’m never leaving you. Never.”

Some tautness in his body slackened. He took my chin between his fingers and kissed me, one of those fervent kisses that was more like gnawing on my mouth, and I surrendered to it with my own quiet violence. He kissed me like he was protecting me, like Cantor might still spring up at any moment and doom our relationship. For an intelligent man, Price could be pretty stupid, but then, I’d never been much of a genius in the relationship department myself.

His kiss gradually gentled, but I remained a roiling mess of confused emotions. After he left, I took an hour or more to fall asleep. He exasperated me and thrilled me and wrung me out until I was clinging to the last shreds of my sanity. Jesus, I loved him, but I wasn’t completely sure that I should.

Chapter Eight: A Place of Peace

Chere was quiet on the drive to work the next morning. She sat beside me in the back seat of our chauffeured sedan, dressed in a dark shirt and a long, patterned skirt. She wore skirts all the time now. Easy access, and she didn’t seem to mind it. I could take her right now if I wanted, either with my fingers or my cock, or my mouth. When she was surly and sub-hungover, I wanted to eat her alive. Out of respect for the driver, I restricted myself to holding her hand.

“What’s on the schedule today?” I asked in the stultifying silence.

She turned her head a little and brushed her curls back from her face. “Just work. I have some new designs that Vinod approved. He’s coming in a couple weeks to see the samples, and I want to have everything ready to show him.”