sparked in Jaden’s eyes before she shielded them from me, her lids

closing tight over the amber I refused to be denied. Her body shook even more as

she fought back the sobs I knew she wanted to release. And I welcomed them. I

wanted her tears to coat my skin. I wanted her to shed them so she could move past

her initial fears and give in to what was always meant to be. Mine.

Lowering myself to the bed, I placed my hands on either side of her head and

leaned in.

“I may not have your love, and though that will come in time, it is not my

immediate concern. My immediate concern is your lack of loyalty to the man who

owns you. Treachery is not something I will tolerate as you’ve seen tonight, and you

are no exception.”

More silent tearless sobs racked her body as she tugged at her cuffs. I found

myself pressing my lips to her forehead.

“We will be going back to the drawing board, Jaden. You will not leave this room

until you’ve abandoned your hopes for revenge, and I am satisfied with your

behavior. You will remain here until you understand that your loyalty to me is the

only thing that will release you from everything you’re going to endure down here.”

More silent sobs, more shaking, and this time, the tears finally flowed. We were

already making progress.

“I hope you’re ready, princess. Because I have a feeling we’re going to be down

here for a very long time.”

52

BROKEN

I t took Jaden a full month and a half before she finally broke. She spent the first

week sleeping in her cage, and the second weekwhen she behaved better

completely restrained to the bed; her only reprieve was when I allowed her to use

the bathroom or to bathe. If she behaved, I would only cuff her wrists together

while I warmed her body with my own, massaging the blood flow back into her

arms.

For every ounce of reluctance or mere glimmer of ungratefulness, I responded

with that much more cruelty. If she wanted my mercy, she’d better damn well

smile for it and show me how much it meant to her; otherwise, I had no reason to

give it. If I didn’t feel her desperation for me, then I wasn’t working hard enough to

extract it. For every small moment she denied me, whether it was defiance or false

indifference, I punished her severely. Pain was a constant companion for her for a

long time. I didn’t care if she was denying an orgasm or an emotion, I would not

have her hiding a thing from me.

The first few days had been difficult. Her first week was filled with nothing but

punishments. I’d burned her with wax, whipped her with leather, beaten her with

wood, and drained every single tear and scream from her body. For every word of

backtalk, I made sure she tasted blood in her mouth. It didn’t take long for her

pride to leave her as she begged and pleaded with me to stop. It wasn’t happening.

If she wasn’t restrained to the bed, she was restrained somewhere else within the

room, submitting to the pain she knew she owed.

At first, she had fought me in her restraints as best she could as I left her legs to

move freely, but that was only because I wanted to be able to move them in

different positions when I fucked her. I threatened to numb her legs with an

anesthetic if she kicked me, and I only had to follow through once on the second

day. She was much more cooperative after that.

On the days when she did finally give in to me—when she gave me what I

wanted and took her punishments well—the pleasure I rewarded her with was far

greater than anything she’d ever experienced. I was tender, gentle, passionate—

everything she could have ever wanted or needed as she grew dependent on my

comfort. If she denied me, I made sure to leave her wanting for the rest of the

night. If she thought she was lonely and isolated before, she had no idea how

reliant she was about to become on my attention and affection alone.

Eventually, her pride disappeared altogether, and she made sure to express her

gratefulness to me at every turn. The feeling I got when she clung to me, seeking a

shield from the cold her body endured in my absence, was heaven. She’d bury her

face in my chest, and as she warmed her little nose, she’d inadvertently warm my

dead heart.

After the third

Вы читаете Spark
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату