Page 65 of Corruption
“Maybe you have a point,” I reluctantly admitted. “But I’m certainly not ready to die yet.”
“Then let’s hope your name never ends up on my list.”
I stared at him, utterly shocked. “You would kill me?”
“After the month is up, why wouldn’t you be fair game?”
“Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Do I owe you something?” he asked.
My anger surged, and I moved closer to him, not entirely sure of my intentions. Jared wasn’t a small boy anymore. He had grown into a towering figure through training and proper nutrition. However, I still hoped to project some intimidation, to prove that I hadn’t entirely lost my edge. But as Jared stood tall, his arms relaxed by his sides, and I closed the distance between us, it became painfully obvious that he wasn’t the least bit intimidated. I was as scary as a tiny kitten learning to hiss.
“Yes?” he prodded, sensing my desire to take action yet recognizing my inability to instill fear in him. It was a stark reminder of the unfairness of biology.
“I thought there might be a tiny bit of goodness left in you,” I said, holding up two fingers closely together. “But it seems I was wrong.”
It was far from what I truly wanted to say, but my body couldn’t endure another round of what I had experienced the previous night. So, I chose to be much kinder than I truly desired. I stubbed out the cigarette on the balcony railing, then tossed it into an empty pot in the corner of the balcony. I was about to reenter the apartment when I felt a firm grip on my arm. I was pulled back, colliding with Jared’s powerful body. His arm enveloped my waist, his warm hand resting on my hip. My skin remained incredibly sensitive from the bites, flogs, and everything else he had subjected me to. His slightest touch sent every nerve in my body aflame, searing wherever our bodies met. His warm breath wafted over my ear as the residual scent of cigarette smoke lingered around us. He extinguished his own cigarette, pressing it against the railing before flicking it over the side. His other arm snaked around my chest, trapping me against him.
“That’s littering,” I whispered.
“I really don’t care,” he murmured into my ear.
“You should care. Just because the world isn’t pretty doesn’t mean we have to make it dirtier.”
His dark laughter resonated in my ear as he brought his nose to my neck, inhaling deeply. “You just can’t stop, can you?”
“With what?” I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper as he trailed his lips up the side of my neck.
“Your attitude. Your bratty mouth. You know what it brings you, and it never stops,” he growled before biting the skin below my ear with a hint of aggression.
“Ouch! Hey!” I protested, pulling away as best as I could. I turned my head to see an intriguing look in his eyes. I had expected anger or cruel promises of further humiliation, but instead, he gazed at me with a somewhat melancholic expression.
“You never change, so why shouldn’t I come for you? If someone wrote down your name, paid me a substantial sum, tell me, what should stop me?” he whispered, his tone almost pleading. However, I knew he wouldn’t shed a single tear over my death. He’d probably dance on my grave, blasting a cheerful song from a speaker and shouting, “The bitch is finally dead”. Yes, I could envision him doing all those things, so why would he beg me for a reason?
“Because if I died, then who would you torture?” I retorted with a dry tone.
“When the month ends, the torture does too. Give me a better reason,” he murmured before tracing his lips down my neck again, causing my eyes to flutter closed. My tongue darted out, moistening my dry lips as he began sucking gently on the skin, sending a wave of warmth through me. “Give me one, Alison.”
There was that pleading tone again.
“I... I make you come harder than anyone else,” I whispered, hearing him chuckle before biting me a little harder once more.
“I think we both know it’s the other way around. Try again.”
His hand started traveling down the side of my body, releasing my arms, but I didn’t resist him. His touch was too intoxicating. I had done everything to avoid craving it, to suppress my desire, but after the brutality I had endured the previous night, I longed for that tenderness. It was wrong, but for a brief moment, I allowed myself to want it, because I knew his touch could be gentle too. As his hand cupped my breast, I let out a soft sigh. He didn’t linger there, moving further down. His hand slipped beneath my shirt, grazing a small bruise, which made me hiss in pain. I felt the smile on his lips spread against my neck before he traced my lower stomach with his fingers, eliciting that delightful warmth once more.
“Sore?” he asked.
“Very,” I whispered.
“But a slave is always ready for her Master, isn’t she?” he taunted.
“You mean, she doesn’t have a choice,” I retorted before he bit me again, but this time, I smiled as I felt the little sting.
“My slave will do whatever I command, and now I want an answer from her before I fuck her on this railing.”
“Y-You’re going to drop me,” I stammered, glancing over my shoulder, seeing the daunting height below.
