Burn Me Right

Chapter 27

Zyler sat impatiently in the driver's seat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He had expected her to be ready by now, but it seemed she was taking longer. He glanced at his watch and the door, scowling, cursing under his breath. He checked his phone, hoping for a message or a call from her, but there was nothing. The silence only added to his growing frustration.

Opening the car door, he stepped out with a sense of impatience coursing through his veins. His eyes darted around the quiet street, scanning the surroundings as he walked briskly to her house.

"Hurry up, baby! We don't have all night," he growled, his tone laced with irritation.

He noticed she was sitting at the desk. She didn't even pack a single thing. With urgent strides, he walked over to her and pulled her to his chest. "What did I tell you about not listening to me?" she squeezed her cheeks. "Trust me, sweetheart. I punish people who don't listen to me," he quirked his brow, intimidating her. Autumn didn't respond. "Very, very hard," the last words left his mouth with a taste of urgency.

"Answer me," he moved his hand to her back and squeezed her waist. She whimpered.

His gaze then moved to her phone, and he noticed an open text message to Rowena. A long paragraph was written but incomplete because she didn't send it. He darted his gaze back to her beautiful, lust-inducing eyes. "Well, my little Dahlia is quite daring, isn't she? Planning something mischievous behind my back?" His twisted nature made her stomach lurch.

"I...." she was about to say something when he bent her over the vanity. He grabbed her wrists in his palms and spread them on the table. The sudden movement caught Autumn off guard. She didn't have time to react, then again. She never did

She could feel him unzipping his zipper. This made her go rigid, her muscles tensing up as if preparing for the worst. Her mind raced with images of all the terrible outcomes that could be in store for her, each one more horrifying than the last.

"Please don't," she pleaded with him.

"Were you planning to escape?" he ground his boxer-clad dick on her ass cheeks. She said nothing other than whimpering.

"Autumn, don't make me fuck you," he warned her darkly. At that minute, he sounded like her grandmother. It felt as if she was back in her childhood. "You are the reason your sister is no longer with us," her grandmother's spanks with a ruler were still fresh in her head. She didn't know how she had come this far without killing herself. Her senses shut off, and she pinched her arms, scratching the table.

His hands moved to her ass cheeks, kneading them, "Don't make me wait for an answer, baby. It pisses me off," He slid her panties down.

"No," she yelled. "I wasn't planning to escape. I was texting her a goodbye," her front got pushed into the table's edge, but he didn't give up. Somehow, she had a way of bringing out both the angelic and demonic sides of him, like a rose with both its delicate petals and sharp thorns. She could awaken a burning fire within him, igniting a passion that threatened to consume everything in its path. But she also had the power to unleash darkness within him, like a storm cloud that threatened to swallow everything in its wake. She was his yin and yang, his light and dark, his salvation and damnation, all wrapped up in one tantalizing package.

He was torn between savoring her like the finest wine or spitting her out like bitter poison. Her feeble whimpers brought him out of his murderous rage. His cock was still pressed on her ass cheeks.

She tried to stifle her sobs as he zipped up his pants and hoisted her up, but they turned into quiet sniffles. In the past, she had thought that crying in front of someone was a sign of weakness, a vulnerability that she couldn't afford. But now, as she looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, she realized that her tears were a testament to her strength. She had endured so much, yet she still dared to feel and show emotion even in the darkest situations.