Page 110 of Venomous Desires

I froze, unsure if I had heard him correctly. When the shadows on his face didn’t move, I swallowed. Was this the time I grabbed his legs and begged? But why did I feel like that’d turn him on even more than he already looked like?

This was inevitable. Either I do it myself, or he’d do it in his way. Practically forcing me. At least, like this, I had a little semblance of control, even though it was fake. My hands trembled as I fumbled with the buttons of my coat, hoping he’d change his mind. Though that was just a dream. I unbuttoned the first button, and then the second before the coat was opened and I lowered my head with fists clenched at my sides.

I didn’t want to see what type of expression he was making. My body stiffened as his fingers tapped the cane he held against the floor—once, twice.

For a second, he said nothing. And then I dared to sneak a glance at him, but instead of the wrath I expected, a dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. He stepped forward, circling me and pushed the coat off my shoulders as it fell around my knees. “Stubborn as fuck, huh?”

His eyes roamed over the loose sweats and oversized sweater I had chosen instead of the lingerie he had sent.

I knew I had made a mistake in anger, but I couldn’t undo it now. Before I could utter a word, his hand grabbed the back of my nape and in one swift he bent me over the edge of the bed. “What-“

I gasped, my hands instinctively reaching out to brace myself against the mattress, but my legs dangled off the side, leaving me completely exposed. Panic surged through me, and I thrashed instinctively, trying to get free, but he was already behind me, his hands bunching the fabric of my woollen trousers.

With a rough yank, he pulled them down, baring me to the cool air.

“Is this how you want to play?” He growled in frustration. No matter how much I was readying myself, I couldn’t bear it. Everything in me burned.

“Judas, please, listen to me!”

His hands gripped my hips firmly, holding me in place while he leaned in, and I shivered as his lips brushed against the back of my neck. “I wanted you in lace, little bird, but I’ll take what’s mine anyway I can get it.”

“No, please,” I whimpered as I struggled against him, but it was futile. He was unrelenting; his strength was far beyond mine. He captured my wrists with one hand, and before I could even process what was happening, I felt the silken fabric of his tie winding around them, binding me securely to the bedpost.

I didn’t even know when he took his tie off.

My wide eyes tried to look over my shoulder, but he was pushing my head into the mattress, muffling my screams.

“Shhh, little bird,” The spawn of the devil murmured dangerously softly as I felt him stepping back, leaving me tied and helpless. “Don’t make me mad than I already am.”

Mad? He was fucking deranged. I wanted to scream.

But I dared not move. I felt the cold air kiss my bare skin. That I couldn’t see him, and he was out there behind me somewhere while I was dangling half-naked over the bed, wasn’t relieving. Instead, sobs erupted from my mouth; they were whiny and ugly. I hadn’t cried like this in my life. Whether itwas alcohol or him, I didn’t even know what I was intoxicated on anymore.

Just as I kept my heart in my throat, I felt something touching me—something cold. My eyes widened in fear and realization as I recognized the feel of it against my exposed behind.

His cane.

My breath caught in my throat, and I tensed, knowing what was coming but powerless to stop it.

“What did I say about disobeying me, Fenochka?”

Fenochka. There it was again. The same nickname he called me by when he was in the mood to ruin me.

Ptichka. Call me that, please, and not this.

I wanted to negotiate, to ask him to bring back that lace lingerie and I’d wear it, but the words died in my mouth as the cane struck my skin with a sharp crack, and I cried out as the sudden sting made my body jerk against the restraints.

The pain was immediate, like a fiery line of sensation that seared across my skin, and before I could even catch my breath, he struck again. My body jolted, and I let out a scream. “No, please, stop!”

“Count,” he commanded.

I shook my head. This was embarrassing.

But when his cane struck again, I squirmed harder.

My breath hitched, and the word was ripped from my throat. “One,” I gasped, tears stinging my eyes.

“Good girl,” he purred. “You’ll count every single one, Ptichka.”