Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(46)

She squeezed her eyes shut again and rolled to her side. Something tugged her ankle with a clink. The chain.

It wasn’t a dream.

The wedding. The wedding night when he’d filmed the whole thing and been so cruel… But then he’d changed again. He was so tender after she’d broken the statue. Then the… punishment.

It had been humiliating to be taken over his knee like that, but she told herself she was allowing it because she needed to get underneath his defenses. Trying to make a run for it again had been just as stupid and useless as the first time.

She just needed to outsmart him. To play by his rules for a little while. Give him what he wanted and gain his trust. Already he’d made her leash longer. He couldn’t keep her here locked up forever.

He wanted her as a trophy and what fun was a trophy if you couldn’t show it off in public? If she played his games, maybe he’d give her more and more leeway, and then she could make her escape once she had a real shot at it.

The problem was, once his ‘punishment’ had started…

Her eyes all but rolled back in her head as she remembered. At first it was just a confusing mix of pain and pleasure while he spanked her.

But then…it went somewhere else entirely. She didn’t even know how to explain it. It was like she’d floated off the ground while still being in her own body. Like a timeout from real life where she didn’t have to worry about anything except sensation. And pleasure, oh gods, the pleasure. She hadn’t even known it was possible to come that many times.

She gave over her body to him, leaping off a cliff and knowing, just absolutely knowing that he would catch her.

What the hell was that about?

Her cheeks heated and her stomach went liquid at the memories. Every time he touched her, she melted.

She scrubbed her hands down her face and looked out the window. She didn’t know how long she’d napped. It looked like it might be nearing sunset.

She slipped off the bed, testing her new, longer leash. The chain let her go to the bathroom, if she sat with her foot outstretched. How generous.

The shackle around her ankle didn’t have a lock to pick, as far as she could tell. Same with the collar.

You won’t act like a wife, fine. You’re still my property.

She clenched her teeth, shaking off memories of the confusing pleasure. Fuck that. Just because he could play her body like a violin didn’t change anything.

“Yeah, I said ‘fuck,’” she said, looking around the room. “Get used to it.” Her mother taught her good girls didn’t swear, but where had being good gotten her?

Tied to her bed on her wedding night.

She spent long minutes testing the strength of the chain and the bedpost securing it before giving up.

She glared up again at the camera in the corner, red light still blinking at her. “I’m hungry,” she announced. She was only a little bit hungry after the filling breakfast earlier, but she had the feeling it was a request Marcus wouldn’t ignore. He seemed to have a thing about taking care of her physical needs. She’d bet that in a minute, Marcus would enter and tell her whatever humiliating task she had to perform for food. And she’d do it.

Submit. Survive. Escape.

“Any day now,” she muttered, flopping back on the bed. She was still naked. Her new husband seemed to like her like this. Helpless. Naked. Chained. The sick fuck.

She ran her hands over her arms and then her chest. She’d gotten through her first day of marriage. What would tonight bring?

More of the same, no doubt. He would come for her and she would bend, bow and scrape. She couldn’t help it. Something in her responded to him. He held all the cards, but she’d do anything to stay in the game. So yes, she’d bend. But she wouldn’t break. She’d remain her own no matter what he did.

No matter how many times he called her, “Mine.”

Long minutes passed and he didn’t come. Was it because he knew she was trying to exert some small control over the situation? She crossed her arms over her chest but she couldn’t help her thoughts from straying where they always did. His body strong and beautiful as a god’s, powerful, all consuming. Thinking about it, her breath came faster and her nipples pebbled.

How could she resist his power over her?

Stroking her right arm absently, her wrist brushed her nipple. Heat shot from the tight bud to her awakened core. Whenever Marcus walked into a room, her body came alive.

Maybe she could... No, she shouldn’t…

But what if she did?

She bit her lip. And then, easing back, she opened her legs. The first graze of her fingers was like the coming of spring, warmth breathing over the land. The heat unfurled and bloomed with a thousand petals bursting open. She’d never dared touch herself before. Her body was a secret garden and only one man held the key.

Fuck that. Her finger dipped into her wet channel, spreading silky slick over her inner folds.

Why had she waited so long to do this? This wasn’t shameful or indecent. It felt—

“Oh gods,” she groaned, her legs tightening, her eyelids fluttering closed. The pad of her finger found a spot that sent electric sparks through her.

Forget Marcus, she could please herself.

On second thought, Marcus… His hard face filled her vision, silver eyes flashing, the points of his cheeks tinged red with anger and arousal. Mmmm, yes, right there.