Chapter 9 : Something Worse Than Any Punishment...

Adrian…

“I just wanted to let you know. I'll be back before midnight.”

With one hand holding the phone against my ear, I flip through the freshly printed pages and scan the content.

Bert sighs on the other side and I suspect he's feeling relieved to hear that. I'm momentarily distracted as I turn over a random thought in my head. He must have really grown to care for my Esclave, to show such depth of care and concern.

Jealousy twists my gut and my hand curls around the phone, crushing it so hard that I hear a crippling noise.

When I glance at the phone, my eyes widen. I've put slight cracks on the screen. I didn't know I was capable of wrangling a phone single handedly. Rolling my eyes, I press the phone back to my ears and excuse myself to get off the call before I ruin something more than a replaceable phone screen.

“Wait, Rain! Your pills have arrived!”

My hand freezes in mid air when his words register. Taking a deep breath, slowly, I start turning over the pages without really reading anything. “When?”

“This evening. Right as we arrived at the gates. Why didn't you tell me that you'd already ordered the next installment? You could have spared me all that tension.” Bert speaks disapprovingly, unaware of the fact that I have all the intentions of throwing them away.

I'd placed the order before I really understood the true potential of my sickness. And now that I've had a taste of the control and power my darkness can give me, I'm not going to let it go.

Rounding my desk, I stride to the glass wall and gaze out at the weakening rain. It's going to stop eventually and we'll have to leave. But I'm not ready yet. I still have unfinished business with my Esclave.

“Keep them with you. I'll decide what we are going to do with them when I'm back.” I say, slightly distracted by my random thoughts.

“What's there to decide? You're gonna take—” I hang up before he can finish and switch off my phone. He'll certainly try to reach me but I don't have more time to spare for his useless lecture.

Tugging on my tie knot, I leave my private library with the stacks of printed paper tucked inside a brown folder safely. I'd left my Esclave to boil over her unfulfilled need after dinner and came to the library to take care of the matters that I knew would threaten our privacy.

I arrive in the foyer quietly then toeing off my shoes near sliding doors, I place the folder on the side table then start my hunt.

There's something very delicious about prolonging the anticipation. I've always been a big fan of dragging out things… Things that someone desires the most… desperately… eagerly… hungrily…

I remember clearly, vividly, her low deep moans as I explored her body, squeezed her ample breasts and felt her soften against me, in the trap of my arms. I'd sensed her arousal, felt her flawless skin flush under the manipulation of my teasing touches and dirty words.

She was so aroused, she couldn't even form coherent syllables. But I knew what she wanted to say and that made pulling away from her harder than it should have been. Her silent protests were only affecting me in the most primal ways. God knows if I hadn't stepped back from her withering body, I would have torn apart every inch of her until the darkness rising inside me didn't settle.

She will always be in dire danger with me. I might have the humanly possible control over my actions but it all falls and goes to hell when I'm anywhere near her. The steel hard throbbing snake twitching between my legs is the living proof.

She's like a weakness to me, making me so helpless when it comes to her. Getting over her would be the ultimate victory over my life and myself.

But something tells me that she's not going to make that easy. And what the hell? I'm always up for some tough love! (That's what I've been given for all of my life.)

Prowling through the entire house on soft footfalls, I check every room and search every corner, fully expecting her to be hiding somewhere. That's what women do when faced with a moral dilemma. They know what they want from men like me but they're too afraid to get involved because their heart is always at risk. Maybe their mental health too. I don't blame any women or my Esclave for that. They should stay clear of men like me. When I don't trust myself around them… how can they?

I wander through the entire household and find my Esclave in the most unexpected place…

In the master bedroom.

I watch through the door left ajar slightly, just like that morning I'd done when I asked her to strip for me. She stands facing the closed glass window, gazing at the gradual decrease in the rainfall. Her posture is straight and dauntless… squared shoulders, folded arms, relaxed body… she's an epitome of calmness and steady.

Well, it's time to change that.

Slowly, I ease inside the room, mostly covered in darkness and move to stand right behind her. I raise a single hand and touch a long dark strand of her hair, feeling the texture between the tips of my fingers.

She turns rigid, tense. She's hardly breathing now. Smiling slightly, I lean forward and bury my nose in her lush hair, inhaling deeply. She shudders provokingly.

“Tell me what you were thinking.” I demand in a hoarse voice, barely capable of keeping my hands to myself now.

“What does it matter to you? All you want is my body. Take it and get over with it already.”

The hateful snide in her voice takes me aback. But it hardly does anything to faze me. Whipping her around in a flash, I slam her against the glass wall, breaking into her personal, making her squirm ever so slightly.

Good, I still affect her. She had me worried for a second with her stiff words and unmoving body.

I study her face in the dim lighting of the room and realize something fascinating. Fear is a really good look on her sweetheart face. It makes her black pupils dilate like she's turned on… her pale cheeks blush bright red… her plump lips part in invitation…

But I can also see the desire and curiosity battling with moral values and beliefs on her face. I'm perfectly aware of her, physically. But mentally, she's not in tune with me. And why would she be? She ain't knows anything about the concept of pain and pleasure; the only thing that can be experienced completely through our senses.

People fuss about Dominance and Submission a lot, especially the kind that includes force. But for me, it's my second nature, a part of my personality, a layer that makes me who I am.

Usually, no one can tell who I really am. And those who do know, most probably fall in my category.

My pretty little Esclave is the second person who had me figured out at the first sight, though she's anything but like me.

Do you want to know who the first person was?

You'll be surprised to know, but that's not Bert. Albert is way more naive and pure hearted, always looking at the bright side kind of person. He has no idea he lives with an apparently damaged and depraved person and loves him. That poor innocent kid, he thinks that I suffer because I'm highly empathic.

Huh, he doesn't even know that empathic people can't kill anyone in cold blood like I do. They'll probably end up hanging themselves with the all-consuming guilt for taking a life that they had no right to take or give.

The first person who saw me for really who I am… was my mother.

Her uninvited memories resurface and I clench my jaw in response. Fuck! Not now. No longer interested in my esclave's wandering thoughts, I back away from her but maintain eye contact. When I reach the high standing oak table, I halt and plant my feet slightly apart with my hands relaxed on my sides.

I glance down my Esclaves enticing frame then look at the table, doing all the calculations. The height seems perfect. With a nod to myself, I refocus my unwavering eyes on her.

Looking between the table and me with uncertainty, she frowns as her gaze flickers to the wide open door behind me. Oh no, there won't be any chasing tonight. I slowly walk to the door and close it, sliding in the deadbolt.

“No escaping me tonight, Esclave. Maybe another time, when we have more time.” I say as I stroll back and trace the edge of the table with my index finger and glare right in her soul. “I'll give you a chance to runaway then chase you down and fuck you so hard that you won't be able to even walk for weeks.”

Her shallow breathing hitches and I watch her press harder against the glass girl. That's not the reaction I had wanted.

“You're crazy. All this is fucked up. Please don't do this to me.” She cracks and begs me… but for the wrong reason.

I raise my eyebrows in fake skepticism as I fume with an unpleasant sensation of disappointment. “Are you saying no, Esclave?”

“No, I'm not saying I don't want you. I just don't want—”

“Want me? Oh Esclave, tonight is going to be all about you and your defiance. But consider me flattered for including me in this session.” I give her a chilling smile.

She shivers for me like a good girl. But it does nothing to lighten up my rapidly darkening mood. She really doesn't seem like she wants this. And fuck, but I can't do this against her will and desire. I'll break her even before I can get started properly.

“Come here.” I command in a low husky voice, glaring at her in challenge to say no to me. Come to me, Esclave. Don't fight me. I don't want to force you again.

“I —” She opens her mouth but nothing much comes out.

“You're testing my patience here, Pearl.” I hiss through my teeth quietly.

Her eyes turn wild and she begins shaking her head side to side, telling me fucking NO!

And there goes the last piece of control I'd been holding onto so desperately. Rolling my shoulders, I harden my glare and charge forward.

She's fucking begging me to take her rough and hard.

⭐

Rosella…

I can't think. My mind has shut down. I feel numb with terror. But my heart… my heart pounds in my chest and thumps in my ears like crazy.

He's advancing in my direction and I don't know what to do.

So I do the only thing that anyone in such a situation would do.

I squeeze my eyes shut and scream.

“Jesus, stop screeching, Esclave!”

Within the second I start crying out loud, a rough hand slaps on my mouth, muffling my shouts. I start flailing as he pins me against the cold glass with his entire body. Traps both of my wrists in one big hand and slams them over my head. His thighs seize my kicking legs and just like that, I'm his helpless captive once again.

He dominates me with his strength and leaves me no choice but to surrender. My entire body shakes terribly against his hard one as I continue moaning behind his threatening hand on my mouth.

“Shut up!” He glares coldly in my eyes, expressions tight with restraint. “What the fuck has gotten into you? I'd told you already that I'm going to punish you. Why didn't you scream and run then, when you had a chance? What have you done to yourself? Tell me, goddammit, what the fuck were you thinking?”

I stare at his dark expressions and feel the familiar prick of tears. What have I done to myself!? So now all of this is my fault? I'm the one whoes fucked up because I don't want to be spanked or used like a sex toy?

He's seriously twisted, utterly fucked in the head to believe that beating and punishments can turn on a woman. I admit that I'd got wet when he had been rough with me and spanked me once before but I never wanted it. I still don't want it. It's not in me to accept that. He might have shown me that I'm depraved but that doesn't mean that I have to become one, embrace that even when I don't want to.

When he removes his hand, I whisper in a quiet, broken voice. “I don't want this. I never wanted this. I thought that you just wanted some simple foreplay with ropes and stuff. I didn't anticipate that you would actually want to hurt me. I've been terrified since you told me that you want my blood. I don't do pain, Adrian. I never have. I can't. I might like to be underneath your body when we are having sex but I never want you to bring a belt to me and cover me in scars and welts.”

I choke on my tears as I stare into his cold, now confused blue eyes. “Please, I'm begging you. Don't do this. I don't want to hate you more than I already do.”

He lets me go at once and stumbles away from me like I've slapped him on the face. All the color drains from his face as he sweeps a hand down his face, then runs both of his hands through his hair.

“But you're always wet when I touch you. You're lying to me. You're lying to yourself. You still want this, don't you?” His tone ranges from incredulous to desperate as he looks at me then glances up then stares back at me, like waiting for me to start laughing and tell him I've been kidding.

But I'm not kidding. “I don't want this. I never have.”

He blanches. Then stumbles some more and plops down on the edge of the bed. Head in hands, he closes his eyes and takes deep steadying breaths.

“Why didn't you ever tell me to stop before?” He asks in a quiet tone, so quiet and… cold… that it sends chills running up my spine.

“I tried to tell you whenever you forced yourself on me but you never listened. You kept going. I won't lie and say that I'm an innocent. Because I'm not. I've been turned on, I still am. But I don't want this. Not only mentally, but also emotionally. I'm sorry but I think that we both have different definitions of combining pain with pleasure. You just keep taking from me and don't give anything in return. I can't do this. I won't.”

Silent tears run down my cheeks as I stand against the wall, rocking back and forth on my heels, trying to control the overwhelming urge to bawl like a baby and beg Adrian to hold me, make love to me. Not spank me because I didn't act the way he wanted me to do.

He's the most controlling person I've ever met but he executes his power and strength for all the wrong reasons. The reasons that hurt others. I can't be with a man like him. I just don't have that kind of strength and endurance power to bear his mood swings and fluctuation between hot and cold.

I'm fucked up enough for myself. I can't handle another to be that way, knowing that nothing will ever come out of that. Yes, I was falling for him. I'd started to believe that he's the one for me. But then he changed, so abruptly and drastically that I didn't get anytime to fully understand what was happening.

“What do you want then?”

Slowly, he lifts his head and gazes at me through new eyes… eyes that are such a brilliant blue but have no charge or current like before. There's no glint or any spark in his eyes. No emotion at all. They are hollow… blank… dead

My heart sinks further inside my chest as I feel my body turning cold.

He continues in a monotonous voice. “Do you want me to hold you close? Kiss you like I'm in love with you? Fuck you like you're my only passion? Ask you questions about yourself, about what you like or don't like, hold discussions and arguments with you, tell you my deepest darkest secrets like every other perfectly matched couple? Is that what you want?”

I stop rocking, flabbergasted by the truth and accuracy of his words. That's exactly what I want. I didn't know I wanted all of that until I heard it from his mouth.

I stare at him with wide astonished eyes and he stares back with a strange emotion in his eyes. Then, as if he's understood something, he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head with a depressing look on his face.

“I should have known it'll come to this. I was so blindsided by your wits, beauty and unusual ways that I started to think that you're mature enough to understand it all. But you're just a brat, a peckish teenager. It's my fault I forgot and dragged you into all of this.”

He continues to shake his head and my astonishment deepens with a subtle sense of insult.

“Of course you want something equal to happily ever after or some shit. You don't understand. You don't get any of this. You lied to me when I asked you if you were sure or not, if you really wanted any of this or not. You didn't know anything but you gave me my words back without thinking. It was all just a fantasy for you and you thought we would be like what? Some twisted fiction couple? You thought that our reality won't matter? No one can be more stupid than you. I should probably punish you to show you what it really feels like to be dominated, to surrender to someone completely and trust him to help you find yourself. But I don't think you deserve it now.”

His every word is like a blow to my mentality and beliefs, feelings and emotions, thoughts and actions. My grit my teeth and look away, because looking at his handsome face, staring into his cold intelligent eyes only makes me feel one thing… unworthy.

This has been my biggest fear, my largest insecurity, my darkest secret. I knew all along, since the day I laid my eyes on him in that basement, that I wasn't worthy of a man like him. I saw everything in him that I always wanted to be… complicated… fascinating… intimidating…

It's all fucked up and twisted… but unfortunately, it's true.

He stands up from the bed and straightens out his lapels, no longer looking at me. “You've proven yourself to be unworthy of everything that I have to give you. You never really trusted me. You always fought me for no reason. I'll admit, I didn't pay attention to the subtle clues of how you acted and responded to me. It's not all your fault, after all you didn't even know what you were doing. I should have paid more attention.”

Why does he sound so regretful… so definite? I take a step forward and open my mouth to say something, ask him what does he mean by all that? He has torn out the root cause of all of my conflicting emotions. I didn't realize all that but as he says it all out loud, it rings frighteningly true. Like this has been what I was never able to put my finger on.

I was just playing out a fantasy with him. I never gave him my trust, I never gave him anything. But unknowingly, he gave me more than I deserved.

“Adrian… I — I'm sorry. I never thought of it this way. I — I…” Oh God, what have I done!?

“Don't worry. Everything is clear now. You don't know what I want and I can't have you without making you hate me on every turn. There's only one thing we can do now and I'm going to do that. You'll get what you deserve and I'll get rid of my biggest weakness. I'm going to fix this, make it alright.”

His confidence in his decision scares me, and I don't even know what he's going to do.

Why do I get a feeling like something heart-wrenching is going to happen to me, sooner or later?

Adrian slips his hand in his pockets, almost casually, assuredly then strolls to the door. He unlocks it and moves to get out. But for some reason, he glances over his shoulder and looks at me, still standing near the wall.

His eyebrow arches. “What are you waiting for? The rain has stopped. It's time to leave. Come on, hurry up.”

But I don't move, I stand there, gawking. My jaw on the floor.

“We don't have the whole night, girl. Get a move on.” He says, sounding annoyed and impatient.

I blinked and jumped to follow him out, trying to make sense of what just happened and how it happened. But I couldn't.

He leads me straight to the elevators, after slipping on his shoes, fixing his tie and picking up a brown folder from a wide table. We ride down in heavy silence, with aloofness on his side and awkwardness on mine.

His car is already parked outside, ready for us to go. The hotel manager scurries beside Adrian and talks to him in French as we exit and get in the car.

The entire ride I keep sneaking glances at his stone cold face but I still don't have a fucking clue about what's going on in his mind. He's somehow detached himself from his surroundings and seems perfectly comfortable with sitting and driving without craving to make small talk. I try to bring up our last conversation with him. He pays me as attention as he had paid to his manager, that's no attention.

When we arrive at his house, he gets out of the car, hands the keys to one of the guards that patrol the property and slips inside without so much as a glance in my direction.

Bert greets us as soon as we cross the foyer. A huge relieved grin stretched across his mouth. “Rain! You're here. Thank God, I was getting worried sick that you won't —”

“Do me a favour and take her to the guest room which hasn't been evacuated. I need to get into my office immediately. We are having some serious issues in the club again.” Adrian says, cutting off Bert then takes off up the stairs.

I stand, shell shocked by the sudden change in his hospitality.

Why do I want to cry?

“Hey, you alright?” Bert's voice distracts me and I glance at him. He watches me with wary and concerned eyes as he moves closer and pats my shoulder. “Did that jerk hurt you? You don't have to be scared now. I won't let him do it again, okay? Just, please, don't cry.”

My hands immediately shoot up to touch my cheeks and indeed, I find them sleek with tears.

I'm already crying.

…But why?