𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝙴𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎 || ✔

26(S)

__________

This night is cold in the kingdom,

I can feel you fade away.

From the kitchen to the bathroom sink, and

Your steps keep me awake.

__________

I wheeze, my throat aching as I breathe deeply. The cold air invades my body, and I feel my skin prickle. I cough, wincing at the pain.

Did he crush my throat?

Apparently, I am laying on something soft in a dark room, but when I try to sit up, my arms are pulled back. 

That fucker chained my hands to the headboard.

I pull my hands again, the chain clattering against the wood. "Fuck off, Killian," I whisper-shout, making a voice chuckle beside me.

"I am glad to see my real name is catching up to you," his deep voice echoes in the room. I sigh loudly, making him chuckle again. "Wonderful to see that you've lost your voice, I was getting tired of hearing you complain," he says, and I hear a creak of a sofa, "and complain," he continues, his footsteps coming nearer to me, "and complain," he concludes, his face barely visible in the dark, but his form right above me, his hand painfully gripping my hair.

"I hate the absence of bruises on your perfect body," he says, his fingers trailing down my chest, stopping at the neckline of my dress. "This needs to go," he says, tugging at the fabric, "don't you think?" he completes, tilting his head.

"No," I say hoarsely, shaking my head. 

"Oh, my beautiful slut, I didn't give you a choice," he completes, gripping my dress and ripping it in two. I scream painfully, thrashing my body on the bed, raising my foot to kick him but he grabs it mid-air. "Oh, my. Feisty," he muses, laughing. "I guess I need to tie your beautiful legs, too," he says, trailing his fingers down my shins. A whine escapes my mouth as tears run down my cheeks, my exposed body shivering in anxiety and the cold. His warm hands grip my ankles and spread them apart, tying them successfully.

"Delectable," he comments. 

"Killian-" I whisper, shaking my head. He bends down to my face, gripping my neck threateningly, "Oh, did you say something?"

"Killian, p-" I start, but I am interrupted by a slap across my cheek.

"Do you want to correct that?"

"Plea-" I start, but he punches me in the stomach, making me yell in pain.

"How do we start a sentence, slave?"

"I can't-" I whisper, tears running down my cheeks, the pain making me delirious. He interrupts me by landing a punch on my side.

"Sierra! How do we start a sentence? How do you address me?" he asks, his tone unnervingly calm. I close my eyes, flexing my fists. "Okay," he comments on my silence. He proceeds to straddle my bound body, not putting all his weight on me, but his knees pressing against the mattress just beside my waist. He grips the center of my strapless bra and unclasps it from the front.

No. No. No.

I shake my head trying to thrash but his body weight disabling me. I try to bring my arms to the front but the cuffs cut into my wrists, making me whimper in pain. He slowly removes the cups of the bra from my breasts, and my breaths become erratic, tears perpetually escaping my eyes.

"Now," he says before I could say anything, "unless you want me to do a similar behavior with your underwear, address me as you are supposed to," he completes. I shake my head, knowing that there was no guarantee that he wouldn't do it regardless. "Oh, you stubborn, stubborn, slave," he chides, circling my right nipple with his finger. His right hand trails down my bare stomach, reaching the waistband of my underwear.

"What do you say, Sierra?" he says, threateningly lowering the band down my waist bone.

I breathe deeply,  trying to retreat my body into the mattress, and I finally whisper, "...master."

Even in the dark, I see his lips splitting into a wide grin, and he lowers his mouth to my ear, "Good girl," he whispers, removing my bra from beneath my back, and sitting upright again. "Now, how hard was that?"

Very. 

"Not much," I reply instinctively, "...master."

"Good girl!" he cheers, "You're getting the hang of it!" Unnaturally, a smile creeps up my face, making my conscious mind berate me. "Can you guess what you get rewarded with, now?"

Please don't say pleasure. Please don't say pleasure.

I shake my head. "Words, Sierra. I hope you won't forget," he says, his tone switching psychotically.

"No, master."

"I brought you your favorite food, chicken carbonara, and I brought you water to ease your throat," he says, getting off my bare body, making me breathe a deep sigh of relief.

"Come on, sit up," he says untying my feet, "let's eat," he completes, massaging my ankles.

I scooch my body upwards, trying to sit up, but incompetently doing so. "Oh," he laughs, grabbing my hips and hoisting me up. "There you go," he completes, coming towards me and freeing my wrists, making me widen my eyes in surprise.

"Since I don't trust you as much, Sierra, I'll tie them together behind your back," he says, doing what he told me, "but if you continue to behave, I'll perhaps untie you completely," he says, trailing his warm fingers down my cheek. "Such a beautiful girl you are, Sierra," he says, kissing my lips deeply. I try to retreat my head, but he grabs the back of my neck forcefully, making me stay still. He takes his other hand and pinches my nipple harshly, making me gasp, and making him invade my mouth with his tongue.

"My sweet, sweet slave," he says, tucking a hair lock behind my ear.

"Now," he says, bringing a straw up to my mouth. "Drink the water, then we will eat," he says.

"Yes, master."

**********

After making me eat, he cuffed my wrists and ankles and carried me out into an unfamiliar living room. "Where are we?" I ask, as he sets me down on the sofa.

"I'll let that question pass, Sierra. Do I need to remind you of the rules, again?" he asks, gripping my bruised side.

"No, master. May I ask a question, please?" I ask, sighing.

"What?"

"Where are we, master?" I ask softly.

"In Europe," he says non-chalantly, making me gasp in realization.

"May I ask another question, master?"

"Go ahead," he says, switching on the TV, making no eye contact with me.

"Did you-" I clear my throat, my chest painfully constricting as my throat chokes up, tears welling my eyes, "Is Liam okay, master?"

"Are you mine, Sierra?" he asks me, looking into my eyes.

"Y-Yes," I say, wincing at my words. 

"Why do you care what happened to Liam? I hurt him, Sierra. I left him to die, do you understand? He's not in your life anymore," he instructs, his bruising grip on my upper arm.

"Yes, master," I choke out.

Author's Note:

Thank you for crossing 100 votes! Lots of love to all of you! Vote and comment, please. Thanks-you.