Their Forever - Chloe Kent Page 0,18

slave, a sex slave, degraded and humiliated and passed around at her owner's whim because Liam had made abundantly clear he owned her, her life, her smile, every single strand on her hair, and he could do anything he wanted to her without question, or reason.

Her life should have been over.

Instead, Liam had shown her things about herself and her body that once surfaced she felt whole, alive. If she envisioned he would put her in a cage before spanking her, out of cruelty, in reality when he did just that, she had grown a fever of need and want, her body a vessel of chaos that had seen her begging him to make her come.

He had stripped her of the clothes she had been forced to wear, leaving her vulnerable and afraid, and with that, she became a woman with needs and wants, a never-ending carousel of desire that played repeatedly in her brain no matter what she was doing.

She lived to please him and in doing so pleased herself, and when Liam called her his Little One, the words made her soar with pride. He was the key that had fit perfectly into her heart. He had shown her boundless generosity; he would kill a man who so much as said one wrong word to her.

He cherished her even when she lay across his lap, his belt printing her ass when she unconsciously put herself in danger. Or when he played with her, strapped to a St. Andrews cross, where he whipped her body into a delightful pattern of his choice that she wore proudly and sent her to planes and a domain not of this world, places she could only go in her mind and only because he had shown her the way.

How could he not love her? He did. He proved it every single second of the day. But her saying the words triggered a different kind of beast in him. A beast that scared her.

“Liam?” she said softly, her palm cupping his cheek as she had to strain to reach him.

For a second he softened; gone was the crazy beast he had called forth, and somewhere in there was her old Liam, the man she loved. “I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I—”

“Silence,” he said softly, but she jerked back as if that one word had rolled from his lips with a thundering voracity.

“No—” But she didn't get far. He bundled her dress up in his hand, the tumbling frills irritating him now. With his other hand he yanked down her panties, her wetness smearing her thighs when he pulled them down and forced her to step from them.

He spun her around to face the desk, forcing her down as she tried to get up, pleading with him to talk to her, tell her what she did wrong.

She cried out in shock and pain when Liam drove his cock into her pussy. Even as wet as she was, the harsh intrusion, the cruel impact of his penetration robbed her of her breath. She staggered as he impaled her, falling forward under the sheer strength of his invasion. He yanked her up again, silencing her pleas by stuffing her panties into her mouth.

Again, her body couldn't differentiate, couldn't understand that what Liam was doing to her was born from anger, not from wanting to give her what she wanted and craved. The degradation of his act, of gagging her with her own wet panties, was meant to silence her, not evoke fresh wetness from her pussy as her walls hugged him lovingly tight, even as he wrenched himself from her every time only to drive back with renewed force. She shook and shuddered, her saliva soaked her panties and now left a tinge of her own taste on her tongue. His. Her wetness was his. He owned it like he owned her.

As he dug his hands into her hips, her mind registered the delicious bruises he would leave behind. He fucked her harder than he had ever done before. He reached around her, the fluffiness of her skirt annoying him to no end again. He ripped through enough of the fabric and flung the piece to the floor, so he could reach her pussy where he slapped her clit until her head fell back on his shoulder.

She didn't want to come. She fought it with all her will. This wasn't the answer.

She tried to reason with him, but with her panties in her