"YOU WERE MINE, YOU'RE MINE, AND YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MINE, " he declared, his voice a low growl as he thrust deeper into me.
"Ahh, I h-hate you," I managed to gasp, the intensity of the moment making it hard to think straight.
"SAY THAT AGAIN AND SE...
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The room was still, the quiet hum of the world outside barely penetrating the walls. Aurelia lay before me, her body trembling, marked by the aftermath of our earlier exchange. But the tension between us was no longer one of rebellion or resistance—it was something deeper. She wasn’t simply frightened or angry anymore; there was a vulnerability in her, raw and exposed.
I sat beside her on the bed, the dim light casting soft shadows across her skin. The marks I’d left glowed faintly, a testament to the dynamic that neither of us could ignore. But it wasn’t the bruises or the welts that captured my attention now—it was her silence. The way her breath hitched in her throat, the way her hands, though free, lay limp by her sides as if she wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“Look at me,” I murmured, my voice low but insistent.
For a moment, she didn’t move. But slowly, cautiously, her eyes met mine. The fire I had seen earlier—the fight—was still there, flickering in the depths of her gaze, but it was softened by something else. Uncertainty. Need.
I reached out, my hand resting gently on her arm, the touch feather-light compared to the force I had used before. “You’re stronger than you think,” I said quietly, tracing the curve of her shoulder.
“But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”
Her eyes flinched at my words, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she held my gaze, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths.
I could feel the war inside her, the part of her that wanted to stay defiant, to hold on to the walls she’d built, and the part that was beginning to crack under the weight of her own emotions.
Aurelia turned her head slightly, her voice tight with lingering frustration. “Why did you punish me like that?” she asked, her gaze narrowing.
“In front of the maids? Bare…like that? It was humiliating.”
I could hear the tremble in her voice, the sting of embarrassment still fresh. Her eyes flickered with shame as she recalled the moment. I’d stripped her completely, bared her in front of the servants before disciplining her.
Her skin flushed as she remembered the gazes on her, the whispered breaths of the maids as they witnessed her submission.
“Do you know what it’s like to stand there, exposed like that? To feel their eyes on me?” Her voice broke slightly, a flash of anger beneath her vulnerability.
“It wasn’t just punishment. It was humiliation.”
I leaned in, my hand brushing over her bare arm, tracing the faint outline of the marks I had left.
“I punished you like that for a reason,” I said softly, my voice steady and calm.
“You tried to run. And if you ever think about running again, you need to understand what awaits you.”
