“I tied you to a bed and took pictures of you! That’s my damned fault, right?!” I bat away the pillow that comes flying at my head and walk over to her. “I betrayed your fucking trust, did I? I forced you into marrying me while pointing a gun to your head!”
I grab her when she lifts her arm to throw another pillow at me and yank her up against me. “Stop throwing shit at me!”
“Stop hurting me!” She shouts, hitting my chest and fighting in my hold. I wrap my arms around her, and she sobs into my chest. “Stop hurting me.”
I close my eyes and press my nose into her hair while she cries. I’ve been shot and stabbed, had the shit kicked out of me—but this right here—having her sobbing in my arms hurt me more than anything. When she lifts her tear-filled gaze to look at me, I brush away her tears with my thumbs. “I’m not worth your tears, Ezra,” I admit earnestly, and she just looks at me wordlessly. “I’m not and can never be the man you want me to be. Do you want to see the real me? I’ll show you, and maybe then you’ll understand.”
“What do you—” I pull away from her.
“Get dressed.” Ezra watches me walk out of the room. Her lips parted, and her eyes were swimming in tears. This was it. There’s no turning back after this. When she sees how dark and fucked up I really am, she will be disgusted she ever let me touch her.
* * *
Ten minutes later,we were in my Alfa Romeo driving in complete silence. I notice Ezra glancing over at me from the corner of my eye throughout the drive, but I keep my eyes fixed on the road. To her, I must be coming off like an impassive prick, but inwardly, my thoughts are drowning me from the inside out. Every mile we got closer; my heart dropped deeper into the pit of my stomach. When we pull up to the venue, Ezra looks at the building and then at me.
“Why are we here, Damien?” She questions warily, and I kill the engine and turn to look at her.
“You want to know me, don’t you? I’m going to show you the real Damien Wolfe.” Ezra blinks, and fear crosses her features. I reach over and touch her jaw gently. “We’re not here for you, don’t worry. Come on.” I open the car door and get out of the car. Ezra hesitates but gets out a moment later, following me to the entrance of the establishment we came to previously. My ‘dungeon of pain,’ as she calls it. I knock on the door and Jared answers, gives me a nod, and we walk in. I take Ezra’s hand in mine, and we walk through the crowd of people to the back, where my room was reserved.
“Damien?” I look over at Eden when she walks over to me, holding the key to the room.
“Everything ready?” I question stiffly, and Eden nods and gestures for us to go through. I take the key and pull Ezra with me to the room. She looks back at Eden as we walk away, who gives her a tightlipped smile before I unlock the door and we walk into the room. Ezra walks in while I close and lock the door behind me. I observe her when she suddenly halts upon seeing the girl standing by the bed with her eyes cast down. I don’t know her name. I don’t care to either…she has one purpose, and I have one agenda.
“Damien?” Ezra spins on her heel and looks at me inquisitively. “What the hell is this?”
“Sit Ezra,” I command, towering over her. Ezra lifts her eyes to stare into my eyes. She shakes her head slowly.
“You’re not serious. You’re going to make me watch while you fuck another woman?”
“Sit down!” I bark, and she jumps and teeters away from me. “You want to know how dark it gets…you’re about to find out. Sit down and be quiet.” I push her down on the seat, and she watches me wide-eyed as I walk over to the brunette by the bed. I grasp her jaw and lift her gaze to mine. Her deep brown eyes lock with mine, and I stare down into her upturned face. “Take off your clothes and go to the cuffs,” I order her, and she obeys, taking her dress off followed by her lace panties before she saunters over to the handcuffs hanging from the ceiling.
I tug my t-shirt up over my head and toss it aside on the bed before I walk over to the whips and pick up the black leather one. I glance over at Ezra, and she’s watching me walk across the room, whip in hand. “Arms up.” The brunette's arms go up, and I cuff her. “Why do you need to be punished?” I question her, and she lifts her dark eyes and holds my gaze steadily.
“Because I relapsed, sir.” I stare into her eyes, and she lowers her gaze, her cheeks glowing.
I nod and take my belt off and fold it, pushing it between her teeth before I walk around her. “Ten lashes. Count with me.” I utter and pull the whip back. I avoid looking at Ezra and grip the whip tightly before I swing my wrist and hit her across the ass hard. She screams, her voice bouncing off the walls in the room. I close my eyes when I feel that release of built-up tension pass through me in waves.
“One.” I pull the whip back and hit her again harder, and she yelps. I lift my eyes and look at Ezra, who was watching me; her blue eyes drowned in tears, her face displaying her terror, and I was only just beginning. When I reach the final blow, the girl's ass was scarlet, lines of my punishing lashes seeping blood, and she was sobbing. I drop the whip and walk around her, grab her by the throat, and she peels her eyes open and looks at me. “Good girl, are you ready for your reward?” She nods.
“Yes, sir.”
I push her legs apart with my knees and thrust my fingers deep inside her. She whimpers, her fingers tighten around the chains, and she thrashes uncontrollably as I drive my fingers deeper into her until I feel her clamping down on around them. I stop, and she goes limp, panting, mewling. “Beg,” I whisper in her ear.
“Please, sir, make me come. I’m begging you.” I thrust again harder, faster until she climaxes, screaming, squirting all over my fingers. I don’t stop once she’s done spasming around my fingers. I tighten my grip around her throat, cutting her air supply while she climaxes. I keep going, making her orgasm again and again, squirting longer, her body convulses, and she’s sobbing with excruciating pleasure.
I lift her head and tap her face lightly, so she comes back around. “Ready for more?”
“Yes, s-sir.” She pants. I nod, picking up the flogger, and walk around her. I brush the flogger down her spine, and she arches against the cool leather.
“Count.” I pull my hand back and hit her hard across the left ass cheek. She yelps, her head thrown back.
“One,” She sobs. I lift my gaze to look at Ezra, and she watches me with a pained look on her face, wincing whenever the sound of the flogger hitting the girl's ass rung out in the room, followed by her wailing. “Eight..”
“Stop!” I turn and look at Ezra, who stands, her hands fisted by her side. She walks past me and looks at the girl. “Why are you letting him do this to you?”
“Ezra—” Her gaze snaps up to me, her eyes ablaze with revulsion.
“What is wrong with you? This gets you off? Abusing her, making her scream and cry? How can you possibly think any of this is sexy? Abuse isn’t a fucking turn-on. You’re taking advantage of a girl who clearly has issues to feed your own depraved fantasies! It’s sick, Damien! You’re sick in the fucking head!”