Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Knox could hear me. Could walk in right now.
But wasn’t that what I wanted? Wasn’t that what made my orgasm that much more intense?
As I came down, my breathing was heavy, my shame weighing on me like a lead apron, unable to fully take root because of how good I felt.
The reality was heavier still.
I wanted Knox.
My cruel captor.
The man who would not save me from the devil, but eventually, once broken, he’d deliver me to him.
Despite all of that, my body yearned for him stronger than it had any substance on the planet.
Curling into the sofa, stomach full and soul tattered, I lapsed into a troubled sleep.
Knox
I couldn’t believe what I’d seen. It had taken every ounce of control honed over years and years not to go in there and finish her myself.
Not to yank her leggings off and bury myself in her cunt.
I’d walked into the cabin expecting to find Piper glaring daggers into me. That’s why I’d come back, wasn’t it? Because I craved her anger like it was my lifeforce. More so when she was strong enough to wield it.
Yeah, I had been hiding the food. Because I was trying to break her. Not kill her. It had been insurance I didn’t think I’d have to use.
It took a human around a month to entirely starve, give or take, but that had some long-lasting and messy effects, so I hadn’t intended to drag it on that long. Hadn’t thought I’d need to.
But seeing her eyes close, seeing her trying to hide just how fucking starving she was… Yeah, I needed to. I wanted to cook every one of her meals for her to see her body react like that.
I’d come back in to ensure that she had eaten it. I was almost certain she was smart enough to give herself the energy she required, but she was also stubborn as fuck, so I wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if she’d left something in the bowl to challenge me.
If she had, I’d planned on punishing her, relishing the thought.
What I hadn’t expected was to walk in, find her reclined on the sofa, eyes closed and writhing in ecstasy as she made herself come.
It had stopped me dead in my tracks to see that. She was so far gone she didn’t know I was there, watching her. I’d never been so captivated in my life. My cock was straining in my pants so hard it was almost painful. The need to stroke it overwhelming. If I so much as brushed it, I felt like I’d spill in my fucking pants like a teenager. Not that I got the chance to have any regular sexual experiences as a teenager. Never did I have a feeling of need or desire without it being tainted with shame.
With the silent gait of a predator, I backed up from where I came, never taking my eyes from her.
I wanted to stay. Fuck, did I want to stay. Close enough to hear the crescendo of her shallow breaths, smell the scent of her in the air. But staying meant that I ran the risk of interfering, marring a moment that was nothing less than absolute perfection.
I made it to the door, skulking out of sight at the edge of the window, watching her finish. Because all I was good for was being a voyeur, witnessing her experience this pleasure while denying my own.
There was nothing there for me.
Yet I wanted it all.
Nine
Piper
Iwoke to loud banging in the kitchen. It felt wrong, ringing against the tenderness of my skull. Fully rousing from my slumber, my limbs burned with an urgent aching, likely from the surge of chemicals and fear hormones that I’d been pushing into them to keep them going, crashing now that I was at my weakest, showing me how severely I’d been abusing my body.
It was dark outside.
The passage of time was murky to me, but I’d begun my run in the morning. I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious initially, but it couldn’t have been that long. Then …
Shame washed over me.
After Knox and I had had that strange conversation where I could’ve sworn I saw emotion, desire on his attractive face, he’d left. And I’d … pleasured myself on this very sofa. Where he slept.
After I’d almost killed myself from running miles with no nutrition. After Knox had almost starved me, all while having food that could’ve avoided the entire situation.
Humiliation ate away at my already aching muscles. It was one thing to be attracted to my captor—something I’d need years of therapy to work through—but it was quite another thing to act on it.
No, I didn’t throw myself at him, but the act of pleasuring myself, thinking of him in a spot where he could’ve walked in at any moment—wanting him to walk in at any moment—that was going too far.