Chains of Obsession

21

"You want to fight me, don't you, you little vixen?" He murmurs.

"I'd fight you if I was free," I mutter, my voice hoarse, but defiant.

Alexander carefully unclips the chains holding my wrists and ankles, his hands surprisingly gentle as he releases me from my bonds.

As the cuffs come off, I wince slightly as the circulation returns to my numbed limbs. I flex my fingers and toes, feeling the painful yet gratifying return of sensation.

As soon as I sat up, I jumped on him despite his large stature. He was caught off guard, letting out a surprised grunt as he fell to the floor, taking me with him.

The impact knocks the air from his lungs for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise.

I don't give him time to recover. Instead, I straddle his chest, sitting on him, and begin to rain down a hail of blows to his face.

It's a short-lived victory. Despite my surprise attack, he's far stronger than I am, and he's got years of experience and training over me. Within seconds, he twists his body, rolling us over so suddenly that I'm now pinned beneath him, his larger frame easily trapping me beneath him.

I struggle against him, but it's a futile effort. His hands grip my wrists with an iron grip, pinning them to the floor beside my head. I'm held completely immobile, trapped beneath his weight, my chest heaving as I pant for breath.

I struggle against him, lashing out and twisting, trying to break free. But it's useless. He's got me completely restrained, his much larger frame easily keeping me pinned in place.

"That was cute," he says, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "But you'll have to try harder next time."

I writhe underneath him, my frustration and fury making me even more determined to fight. I buck my hips, trying to throw him off balance and get out from under him.

But he expected the movement and responded by shifting his weight, keeping me firmly pinned in place.

Despite his confidence, I refuse to give up. I continue to buck and twist, trying desperately to break free, but it's futile. He's much stronger than me, and he seems to be enjoying this little struggle immensely.

I growl, thrashing and kicking against him. "Let me go," I hiss, my voice filled with frustration. "Get off me, you bastard."

"You're a determined little thing," he murmurs, his tone almost admiring. "But you'll tire yourself out soon enough."

Despite his confidence, I refuse to give up. I continue to buck and twist, trying desperately to break free, but it's futile. He's much stronger than me, and he seems to be enjoying this little struggle immensely.

Soon enough, I stop. Not having the strength to continue.

He grins down at me, obviously pleased that I've exhausted myself. He releases my wrists, his grip loosening slightly. But he doesn't move off me, his body still pinning mine to the floor, his weight still pressing into me.

"Finished already?" He asks, his voice low and arrogant.

I'm panting from the exertion, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I try to catch my breath. My muscles are trembling slightly, my body aching from the effort. I glare up at him, my eyes filled with frustrated anger.

I smirked as I saw his face bruised. Bloody lips and bloody left cheek.

He notices my satisfied expression, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at me.

"Why the fuck are you smirking now?" He asks, his voice still cool and collected.

I only smiled before snapping my hips up with full strength and making him lose his balance and get out from under him.

He lets out a surprised grunt as my hips snap up, causing him to lose his balance and tumble to the side. He lands heavily on the floor beside me, rolling once before pushing himself back up into a sitting position.

He glares at me, his eyes glittering with anger now. "That was a dirty move," he hisses.

"You really think you're clever, don't you?" He says, his voice low with annoyance.

He rubs his face, wincing as his fingers touch the tender spots where my punches land. He just now released that he has cut open left cheek and split lip.

I, on the other hand, take the opportunity to scoot backwards, putting some much-needed distance between us. My heart is hammering in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I try to push myself into a sitting position, my arms still trembling slightly from exertion.

But before I can fully sit up, he lunges forward, his hand grabbing my ankle and yanking me back towards him. I let out a startled yelp as I'm hauled roughly back across the floor, my body colliding with his.

He watches me with narrowed eyes, his expression a mix of irritation and something else I can't quite decipher. He gets to his feet with fluid grace, his movements almost feline-like.

I tried to collect my breath. I was exhausted already.

He strides over to me, each step deliberate and menacing. He's like a panther stalking its prey.

"You're tiring quickly," he observes, his voice cool and steady. "Already out of breath from just a few minutes of struggle. You need to work on your stamina."

I look up at him defiantly, refusing to show any sign of weakness. "And you need to work on your ego," I retort, my voice harsh. "Maybe then you'll start acting like a human instead of a psychopath who gets off on bossing people around."

He chuckles at my comment, the sound deep and sardonic.

"Oh, I never claimed to be a saint," he says, his tone mocking. "And as for the ego, well, what can I say? Women like you keep feeding it."

Before I could say anything, he turned around and walked out.

He leaves the room, the soft click of the door closing reverberating in the sudden silence. I'm left alone in the room, my heart still pounding in my chest.