Page 24 of Obsession (Dark Revenge)
“4,” he continued.
I steadfastly ignored his words.
“3. Slave, are you truly going down this path? Do you comprehend the consequences?” he growled.
I remained silent and resolute. I had been too compliant lately, and it was time to rectify that.
“2,” he whispered in a menacing tone.
My heart raced, and adrenaline coursed through my veins, causing me to fidget in my seat.
“1.”
I leapt out of my chair and bolted away, hearing the screech of Jared’s chair as he pushed it back. I sprinted around the table, determined to evade him. I knew it was a futile endeavor from the outset, but I was determined to put up a real fight this time. Grabbing one of the chairs, I attempted to block his path, but he effortlessly vaulted over it, as if he were accustomed to such pursuits.
I didn’t even make it halfway around the table before he seized my arm, yanking me back with such force that it felt as though he might dislocate it. I groaned in pain as I found myself face down over the table, my flimsy skirt offering no coverage, and, as usual, I had been denied underwear. I had grown accustomed to it by now. Jared had seen and touched places that not even myhusband had. However, it seemed that my defiance wasn’t going to deter him. He leaned over me, pressing me into the table.
“You despise it when I chase you. Why would you run like that?” he asked, instantly seeing through my ruse.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just feeling particularly fiery today,” I retorted.
“Are you insinuating that you want me to fuck you, my eager little slut?” he taunted in my ear, but I sealed my lips. I would never admit to that in a million years, but I recognized that his words were merely a challenge, devoid of any real sincerity.
“Bad girls don’t get what they want,” he reminded me before pulling back and starting to loosen his belt.
At least the belt would hurt, helping me quash the dormant feeling that I had been taught was unwelcome. The sting would extinguish it, and I could revert to the person I knew myself to be. When the first strike seared my ass cheek, igniting it like fire, I smiled. Even as subsequent blows rained down upon me, I continued to smile because, in the midst of the pain, I harnessed that fire, channeling it toward the blossoming feeling in my heart, incinerating it ruthlessly. By the time the last strike landed, causing me to cry out in pain, my smile persisted. Jared tossed the belt onto the table and pulled me up, turning me around.
He likely anticipated tears, pleas, and begging, but I craved this. I craved the belt, and this time, he had fallen into my trap. So when he pivoted me to face him, he was met with a smile on my lips. There were a few tears, a product of the pain, but my smile was unwavering, and it momentarily disarmed him.
“Have you had enough?” I taunted. “Don’t you want to deliver a few more before you tie me up and use me?”
His eyes narrowed, unamused by my readiness for these things. It wasn’t going to help him break me if I alwaysanticipated his next move, and I was becoming adept at deciphering his intentions.
Nevertheless, Jared had also changed. He stepped back calmly, his hands in his pockets, nodding toward the disarray on the table.
“Clean it up,” he ordered.
“Yes, Master,” I replied with a hint of mockery but promptly obeyed. It felt like I had won this round.
Jared brushed against me as I washed the dishes, hovering around me, scrutinizing every action. I understood he was attempting to make me feel stalked, a countermove, but I steeled myself, refusing to let it affect me. After loading the dishes into the dishwasher, wiping down the counter, and leaving everything spotless, I turned to Jared, who remained right behind me.
“What task shall I proceed with next, Master?” I inquired, and he took his time contemplating his next move against me.
“I want to play a game,” he declared.
“A game? Aren’t we adults?” I scoffed.
“Adults can play games too, especially ones not meant for children,” he reminded me.
“Wouldn’t you prefer to rest, Master? You were injured, after all. I could make you some tea and prepare snacks, and—”
“No, I want to play a game,” he interrupted, causing me to sigh.
“You have your own personal maid, and you’d rather engage in a game with her,” I muttered.
“Yes, I do, and she will do as I say.”
“Very well,” I conceded, leaning against the sink. “What are the rules of this game?”
