CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: PRINCESS PUNISHMENT? ROSE AMARA POV I close my eyes and lean against the wall to block out whatever is going on inside of me. I try to divert my thoughts by imagining what I will do today, including checking on the house, reading reports, speaking with Hades about the attack and making a plan to know who is all behind this. A hand wraps around my throat from behind as a hot body looms at my back. Eyes widening, I gulp on the water but make no attempt to move. I can't. I am unable to move a single muscle because they are all tense. "You might as well save your energy next time," he said, "because I'll barge through any door you lock." My chest heaves as I sense something challenging and ready at the crack of my ass as he presses his hips forward. He splits my ass cheeks and asks, "Now, about that punishment...how should I start?" I get on my tiptoes as he presses the length of his c*ck against my rear hole. "Here?" My voice, even to me, is low and fake as I say, "S-stop it." 'Don't worry, I'll prepare you so you can take my d*ck up your virgin a** like a good little princess." 'Stop." "Why? Are you afraid of the pain? Don't worry, I'll prep you." My entire body is being held hostage in his hands despite his foul comments, which are intended to make me buck and fight him, claw at his chest, and punch him in the face. This time, the water is definitely not the reason for my nipples tightening to the point of pain. He separates my legs, which naturally open as if they were supposed to. "But we will start here." I'm not sure why I let him treat me this way, as if it were his divinely granted right to do so. However, I've always secretly yearned for the day when Ethan would rip me apart with the same savagery as his true self because of the real person hiding behind the quick kills and smiles? All I want to do right now is dig my fingers into that version, provoke it, and let it out in all its full splendor. That person is only visible to me. Maria always said I'm drawn to danger, and even though I despise Ethan so much, I find myself drooling at the prospect of his menace. At the same time as he tightens his grip around my throat, he inserts two fingers in my body in place of his d*ck. A moan that tears from my throat and reverberates across the air as I pant for air. Holy. Sh*t. He says to my ear, nibbling on the earlobe and shell, "This is only the preparation for your punishment."  "I will be the owner of this c*nt." I close my eyes in shame at the sound my erection is making as he thrusts in and out of me. 'Hear that? That's how much you want I to give you, whether you're intoxicated or sober." 'Can't he stop talking? I am more sensitive and more in need of his assistance the more he speaks with that raspy accent." His d*ck keeps up the sensual rubbing at the crack of my ass while synchronizing it with his beat at my p*ssy. 'This a*se will also be mine." I'm not sure if it's the two attacks or because Ethan is the only person. I haven't been able to drive out of my stronghold, but the overstimulation leaves me weak. It feels like all of my nerve cells are about to burst at once. His brutal grip around my throat just intensifies the already intolerable pleasure. As he quickens his moves in and out of me like a man on a mission to kill me, his thumb teases my cl*t. And he complies. I whimper, "Ahhh...Ethan," as the orgasm slams into me with a crushing power. My legs tremble so violently they can't support me as my body sags in his grasp. Ethan's powerful body accomplishes this. He removes his fingers, not his dick, while holding me up against the wall. He thrusts his length between my legs, almost as if he were going inside, and I gasped. I turned to look back at him for the first time since he ambushed me while he was still holding onto my neck. As water creates streams down his neck and chest and adheres his dark hair to his temples, his sinfully attractive face looks like it just stepped out of a photo shoot. The rough ridges of his muscles and the ink that protrudes from his belly distract me momentarily. He completely covers my back with his chest, so I can't see all of his ink. That slight commotion reminds me of why I looked around. Asking, "W-what are you doing?" As his pace quickens, he groans, "I won't f*ck you. "So what," He jerked his hips forward, which caused me to toss off and almost cause another orgasm. He repeatedly pushes against my core and between my thighs until he groans and tightens his chest on my back. My inner thighs are covered in his cum, which the stream quickly washes away. He screams in a streamed tone, "F*ck! Bleeding hell," and even though I'm barely hanging on, I notice that his accent is different than usual. Although it is not English, it sounds more like… a different accent. I've never heard him talk with that accent before, and for some reason it doesn't seem like he did it on purpose. Rather, it sounds more like it came out naturally. When his lips cling to the hollow flesh of my nape, my words come to a screeching halt. Holy. Hell. Does it really feel this amazing there? Ethan rides his orgasm while sucking on my skin, and I don't move because I'm afraid it will spoil the experience. To better reach my neck, he relaxes his grip on my throat and clutches my hair in a side fist. His teeth are nibbling on the same mark he left yesterday as his other hand grips me by the hip in a possessive manner. My neck is where the sting begins, and it ends right between my legs. "E-Ethan…" 'What more do you want, Princess? I keep quiet because I don't want to acknowledge his impact on me. Because I do want more, you see. It makes no difference if I just arrive or that everything appears excessive. He tugs on my hair and says, "Say it." 'What? 'Say you enjoy being at my mercy when it's just the two of us. Say you want every insane f*cking thing I do to you." I clenched my lips shut, denying the veracity of his assertions. He continues to nip at the tender area, making me whimper and pain at the same time. "Are you or are you not going to say it?" he asks. Why does he cause me to experience all of these diametrically opposed emotions at once? I'm looking back at him as he tugs at my hair. Despite being warm, they appear icy. He's a contradiction, I swear. He enunciates the final phrase, "Say the words, Rose. Admit. It." I refuse to budge as I meet his appearance with my own rebellious one. He narrowed his gaze, so he must see the resolve on my face. "I'll make you scream it," he said. "Never," I sigh. He releases me, and I stutter as I begin to lose his weight. I felt unexpectedly bare and barren. He turned out of the shower as I turned to face him. Ethan looks at me from behind and scans my bare body with his hungry gaze as if trying to memorize it. I have to fight like hell not to flinch. I never anticipated feeling this exposed in front of him while naked, and the dumb self-consciousness just wouldn't go away. He calls out, "Come out. We need to go." and exits entirely. I have a clear view of his big shoulders and fitting back. In the center is a dagger tattoo that drips blood into a pit beneath it. It's so much Ethan, and it's also lovely and gory. Who taught the murderer to be a perfect killing machine and where he came from are both unknown to everyone? Only once did I question him out of curiosity, and then he vanished for seven effing years. Despite the fact that my body is still tingling from the orgasm he forced out of me, I shake my head and concentrate on washing my hair. When I'm finished, I cover my body with a towel and my hair with another. Although I've always taken pride in the fact that I'm not scared by guys, Ethan plainly broke this rule, just like he did with all the others in my playbook. He is standing in front of the window as I arrive, with a halo of dawn light surrounding him. He's wearing a white shirt and black pants. He buttons the cuffs with fluid motions as his fingers slide over them. Not long ago, those same fingers were inside of me, and… I made an effort to divert my attention away from him by scooping up my dress off the floor. I suddenly freeze like a child caught stealing from a jar when he turns around. "Don't wear that again. It's bloody and dirty." 'Do you recommend I leave a towel, genius?" "My wife wouldn't move in a towel." I want to scold him for his possessive speech, but when he added, "my wife," my insides melted. Lie still, insides. He pulls out a basic black shirt and sweatpants from a closet that I assumed was full of bedding. "Put these on." I let go of the clothes and advanced toward him. They are a couple sizes too large, but that is preferable to a stained dress. At the last second, he holds the clothing out of reach. "Not so quickly." I looked at him puzzled. "What?" He grabs me by the waist and pulls me so that I am directly between his legs as he sits on the bed. Before he throws the garments behind him and opens the nightstand to reveal a little device, I am unsure of what is occurring. "Princess, Punishment first."