Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

SASHA

CURRENT DAY

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Isaac snarls when he walks through the front door. His eyes continue to roam over my unusually disheveled appearance as he waits for my answer.

Having spent the day in bed, I managed to pull myself from beneath the covers to greet him at the door as he requires of me. This cold hit me out of nowhere, and that was all I could muster. I didn’t have the energy to shower or change into something he would deem appropriate. My congestion causes me to sound nasally and unintentionally sarcastic when I answer matter-of-factly, “Sweats.”

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” Isaac spits, the soles of his shoes slapping against the hardwood floor as he angrily closes the distance between us. “I know they’re fucking sweatpants. Why the fuck are you wearing them?”

“I… I’m… sorry,” I stammer, stepping backward and trying to hold his angered gaze. A look I have come to know all too well. “I’m just really not feeling well.”

Looming over me, his nostrils flare when he asks, “Do you know what today is?”

I do.

How could I not?

Finally being granted an invitation to the infamous Club Triskelion is the only thing Isaac has talked about for the past week. His giddiness only grew when he learned a couple of days ago that he had also secured an exhibition space for tonight. A room for him to showcase to the world everything he has been training me for during the past six months.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” My voice trembles as I delve deep for courage, knowing I’m going to upset him. “I really don’t feel up tonight.”

A chuckle rattles from his chest, and the darkness of it causes goosebumps to prickle down my spine. He fists the front of my sweatshirt and yanks me toward him. I crash against his firm body as he shoves his other hand down the front of my pants. Brushing over my pussy to where he carved his name into my thigh, he rubs his hand over the raised flesh. He traces his fingers over the letters as he asks, “What does this mean?”

“That I’m yours,” I sniffle as my nose runs.

“Maybe I’ve been too lenient,” he fists my meaty upper thigh, causing me to hiss, “because it appears you’ve forgotten that being mine comes with rules.”

Vigorously shaking my head, I vehemently state, “I’m not disobeying you, Sir. I just thought?—”

“That’s my job,” he interrupts me. “I decide these things for you. And what did I decide?”

“That we’re going to the club.” I force a smile through the pain of his tight hold on me. My breathing is labored as I endure his squeeze, and I struggle to speak. “So you can show everyone how well you’ve trained me.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, releasing his hand. His fingers slide up my leg and dust over the lips of my bare pussy. He massages my mound as he continues, “Are you simply telling me what I want to hear?”

“No, Sir.” I gasp when his fingers press between my lips and dust over my clit. I fist the front of his shirt as he rubs over the sensitive nub, struggling to maintain my balance as he tenderly touches me for the first time in weeks. “I want to show everyone how good I can be for you.”

Isaac grips my throat and tips my face up toward his. His lips press against mine, and he swallows my whimpers as he slips two fingers deep inside me. With his tongue sweeping through my mouth, his fingers work deliberately to bring me to the edge. Riding his hand, his lips dust against mine as he whispers, “Not good, beautiful. Fucking perfect. You’re going to be fucking perfect for me like I know you can.”

While I know his rough, brutal hands are teaching me to be better for him, I’d do anything for this Isaac. The Isaac who adores me. When I please him, he can be so soft and loving. Hovering at the edge of my release, I pant, “Perfect. I’ll be perfect for you.”

“Promise?” he asks tenderly as I unfurl. Held in the strong arm of his embrace, my toes curl against the cool, hardwood floor as bliss shoots through me.

“Yes.” My answer sounds like a plea for him to continue. A smirk pulls at his lips, loving the power he holds over me. “I’ll do everything you demand of me.”

Plunging his fingers deep, he curls them vigorously and quickly works me right to back the brink. “Then you can start right now,” he demands, stilling his fingers and pulling them from me. “Remove those fucking clothes.”

I hastily pull the hoodie over my head and toss it onto the floor as Isaac disappears down the hall. Pushing the bagging sweatpants down, I kick them from my feet. I’m standing naked and needy in the living room when Isaac returns, concealing something behind his back. Stepping back toward me, he places his hand on my shoulder. He gives a gentle squeeze and commands, “Get on your fucking knees.”

Glancing at the hardwood floor, I swallow hard and drop to my knees— my most hated position— for him. He stands over me and tenderly rubs his fingers along my jaw. “I want to make sure you feel good before we leave,” Isaac devilishly smirks as he pulls the toys from behind his back, revealing a large dildo and a wand. Kneeling behind me, he spits a generous amount of saliva on the dildo’s head. He presses the entirety of it into my pussy, and I wince at the sudden stretch. After teasingly pulling it from me, he affixes the suction cup to the floor before cycling through the speeds on the wand. Settling on the second-highest one, he spreads the lips of my pussy and presses it firmly against my clit.

“I demand ten,” he gravelly whispers his command in my ear, rubbing the wand vigorously over my clit as his free hand wraps around my throat and pulls me into him. “My perfect girl will ride that fat rubber cock and take them all without a fucking sound.”

Every muscle in my body trembles, and my knees grind so painfully into the hardwood floor I swear there are grains of rice beneath them. Yet, I struggle silently through the first seven orgasms, each coming faster and more painfully than the last. Writhing over the toy inside me—fighting against the agonizingly painful need of my next impending release—and gasping for air, a fleeting moan passes over my lips as the eighth release hits hard. It shoots through me like bolts of electricity. Isaac lets out a displeased groan behind me, and his thumb slides along the wand, the vibrations immediately increasing to an ungodly, painful speed. Cries of excruciating pleasure fill the room as he forces a quick ninth and tenth orgasm from me.

He turns off the wand, and I breathe a sigh of relief when it stops vibrating against my throbbing clit. After rising from behind me, Isaac steps before me and stares down at me, his face laced with disappointment as he tenderly swipes his thumb through a tear running down my cheek. Gripping my chin, he demands my stare. “I expect better tonight.”

I nod silently for a second, struggling to catch my breath and find my voice. “Yes, Sir.”