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Vice's hand traveled down her spine, his fingers digging into her skin as he made his way down. With a cruel twist of his wrist, he brought a hand down on her ass, pain and pleasure ran through her. Ivy jumped, as she let out a small noise, her eyes squeezed shut.

He slid his hand between her thighs, his touch surprisingly gentle as he found her clit and began to massage it. Despite the situation, Ivy felt her body respond, a traitorous flush of arousal spreading through her.

“I don’t care who touched you before. I’ll erase their name from you're skin, you're mind, you're soul—until there’s only me.” His words were a dark promise, that sent a electricitythrough Ivy’s body, a mix of terror and something else—something she didn't dare name. She clenched her teeth, willing herself not to react to his touch, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he still had power over her.

"So that’s what you want," she spat back, trying to sound unaffected. "To break me until I'm nothing but a shell of who I was?"

"Breaking you would be too easy," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper that sent chills down her spine. "What intrigues me is the challenge of bending you to my will without breaking you completely."

His fingers continued to work their magic, the pleasure building in her core despite her resolve to resist. She could feel the tension in the room shift, the power struggle palpable as he pushed her closer to the edge of submission.

"You can try," she ground out, her body betraying her as she pushed back against his hand, seeking more of his touch. “But it’s not going to happen.”

"Keep telling yourself that" Vice said, his voice a smug rumble against her skin as he slid his hand away, leaving her aching and empty. He stood up, leaving her bound and exposed on the floor. "Your dedication is admirable, but it's you're weakness that truly captivates me."

Ivy laid there, panting and trembling, her body a battleground of desire and fear. She watched as he strode over to a chest in the corner of the room, his muscles flexing with each step. He opened it, revealing a collection of whips, chains, and other instruments of pain.

Her heart raced, she knew she had to find a way to maintain control, to keep her sanity in the face of his relentless onslaught. As he selected a whip, his eyes gleamed with anticipation, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of the pillow beneath her face and the scent of burning wood from the fireplace.

When the first strike of the whip met her skin, she bit her lip to stifle a scream, the pain searing through her body like a bolt of lightning. Yet she remained still, her mind racing for a way to turn this into a victory.

"Scream for me," he ordered, his voice a dark melody that seemed to resonate with the crack of the whip.

Ivy's eyes squeezed shut tighter as she felt the sting of leather on her bare back, the pain a stark reminder of her reality. "No" she murmured, her voice a soft defiance.

Vice chuckled, the sound echoing through the room like a taunt. "You think you're silence will save you?" He trailed the whip down her spine, the tip dancing across her skin like a serpent's tongue. "Your pain is my pleasure, Ivy."

The whip came down again, the sound of leather meeting flesh echoing through the chamber. Yet instead of the screams of agony he craved, Ivy's only response was a soft gasp that seemed almost...sultry. He paused, his hand hovering in the air, his eyes narrowing. "You’re enjoying this aren’t you?" he asked, his voice thick with amusement.

Ivy's breath was shallow, her body a canvas of pain and arousal. She met his gaze with a look of pure challenge. "No," she said firmly.

Vice's eyes searched hers, looking for the lie, the crack in her resolve. But all he found was a deep, burning anger and the unshakeable love for Alice. He threw the whip aside, frustrated that she hadn’t given in. Instead, he reached for her, his grip on her wrists tightening.

"If you won't scream," he whispered, his breath hot on her face, "Then you'll do something else for me." He released her from the silk tie, and she took a deep, shaky breath, her body trembling from the assault.

He climbed on top straddling her. Ivy felt a strange mix of fear and anticipation, the lines between the two blurring in her hazed mind. She could feel his rock-hard cock on her ass.

"You’re mine," he said again, his voice a low, insistent murmur that seemed to resonate through her bones. "Say it."

Ivy squeezed her eyes shut. "No," she spat.

Vice's grip on her wrists tightened, his thumbs pressing into her skin. "You will," he growled. "You will say it, or I’ll make you wish you had."

Ivy's eyes remained shut, her voice strong despite the tremor in her body. "Go ahead and try," she said, each word a declaration of war.

Vice leaned down, his breath warm and sweet on her face. "With pleasure." With that he pulled at her waist pulling her up enough to put a pillow under her hips then drove into her with a relentless force. “You’re such a brat and a stubborn pain in my ass.” He hissed into her ear. With one hand on the floor just above her shoulder holding her in place and the other still holding on to her wrists. He slammed into her, the sound of theirbodies colliding echoing through the cold, stone chamber. Ivy screamed into the pillow.

Vice's thrusts grew more aggressive, his grip on her wrists unrelenting.

"Oh god," she moaned, the words torn from her chest as the pleasure overwhelmed her. She felt his cock stretching her, filling her up in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Vice's eyes gleamed with victory, his grip on her wrists tightening. "Say it," he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper.

Ivy's body arched back, her eyes flying open. The room swirled around her, a kaleidoscope of pain and pleasure that made her head spin. She clamped her mouth shut, her teeth digging into her lower lip to hold back the words he craved.

Vice leaned down, his breath hot on her neck. "Say it," he hissed, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Say you're mine."

Ivy's body was on fire, the pain from the whipping melding with the pleasure of his relentless pounding. "I can't, please." she cried out.