Chapter 26: Punishment

When they reached the packhouse, everyone stopped to stare. They were shocked. Their leader, Alpha Damien, was dragging Sofia behind him. She had no shoes, and her feet were dirty. The maids leaned in close to each other. They whispered and gossiped, trying to guess what had happened in the woods.

​Out of the twelve men who went hunting, only three were hurt. No one had died. Still, the people in the pack were confused. They wondered what had happened.

Damien reached his chamber, shoved the door open, and flung Sofia inside without a word. She hit the hard tiled floor with a painful thud, landing on her backside just as the door slammed shut behind them.

“How dare you?” he spat in anger as he approached.

“Please…” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“Shut up!” Damien roared.

He stalked toward her, every step heavy with fury.

“How dare you?” he snarled as he advanced.

“How dare you run from me?”

She kept moving back until her spine hit the wall. There was nowhere left to go.

“You wanted to run away?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, vibrating register that made the hair on her arms stand up. “The rogues were a mercy compared to what I’m going to do to you for making me chase you.”

He tossed his shirt aside, revealing a chest mapped with fresh scratches and old scars. He stepped into her space, and Sofia scrambled back until her spine hit the mahogany bedpost.

Damien didn’t reach for her face. Instead, he unbuckled his heavy leather belt, the metallic clink of the buckle sounding deafening. He looped the leather twice around his hand.

“Strip,” he commanded.

“Damien, please—”

“I said strip,” he roared, the sound vibrating in her very bones. “Every stitch. Or I’ll rip them off you and use the rags to gag you.”

With trembling fingers, Sofia peeled away her torn tunic and leggings. Her breath came in shallow hitches, her chest heaving. She felt exposed, her soft, curvy frame trembling under his clinical, burning gaze. Despite his rage, she saw the dark flash of hunger in his eyes as they tracked the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. He hated that he wanted her—hated that even after she tried to abandon him, his body reacted to the sight of her.

“Hands behind the post,” he snapped.

He didn’t wait for her to comply. He grabbed her wrists, hauling her up until she was forced to arch her back against the cold wood. Using a silk tie from his dresser, he bound her hands tightly to the bedpost.

Damien leaned in, his scent—forest, blood, and musk—overwhelming her. He didn’t kiss her. He bit the sensitive junction where her neck met her shoulder, marking her as his all over again.

“You are mine, Sofia,” he hissed against her skin. “Your breath is mine. Your body is mine. And today, your pain is mine too.”

He brought the leather belt down, not against her skin, but against the mattress right next to her thigh. The crack made her scream, her body jolting.

“That was for the first mile you ran,” he growled.

He moved his hand to her thigh, his fingers digging into her soft flesh with bruising force. He wasn’t being gentle; this was a reclamation. He wanted her to feel every ounce of his dominant strength. He began to touch her, his hands rough and demanding, exploring every curve of her chubby frame with a possessiveness that bordered on insanity.

Despite her fear, a traitorous heat began to pool in her lower belly. It was the curse of their connection—the dark, twisted pull that kept her tethered to a monster.

“Look at me,” he commanded, grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet his blown-out, obsidian pupils. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” she sobbed, her head falling back against the wood. “I belong to you, Damien.”

“Louder.”

“I am yours! I’m your slave!”

He let out a guttural sound, part growl and part groan. He didn’t use protection; he didn’t use lubrication. He positioned himself between her legs, his knees forcing her thighs wide apart.

When he entered her, it was with a forceful thrust that stole the air from her lungs. It wasn’t the slow burn of a lover; it was the violent takeover of a conqueror. Sofia cried out, her bound hands straining against the silk ties, her body humming with a mixture of agony and a dark, forbidden ecstasy.

Damien set a punishing pace, his movements rhythmic and heavy. Every time he thrust into her, the bedframe groaned against the floor. He watched her face, savoring the way her eyes rolled back and her lips parted in a moan.

“You think you can run?” he panted, his sweat dripping onto her skin. “I will hunt you to the ends of the earth. I will break every bone in your body before I let another man—or another wolf—look at what’s mine.”

He increased his pace and felt her body change. Even though he was being rough, even though he was punishing her, her body was answering him. He felt the friction change as she became slick and wet, her tight heat finally welcoming his thick length.

“Look at how wet you are for me,” he growled, his voice thick with a mix of disgust and desire. “You cry and scream, but your body knows its master.”

Sofia shook her head, tears flying from her eyes. She felt a deep sense of shame. Why? She thought. Why am I feeling this? This man was her nightmare. He had dragged her through the dirt. He had tied her like an animal. But as he hit her G-spot with every heavy thrust, a spark of lightning shot through her nerves that she couldn’t stop herself from releasing a moan.

Damien’s rage flared again when he heard her soft, broken moan. He wanted to break her, not please her. He reached back and grabbed the leather belt again.

Crack!

He lashed her across her plump backside while still buried deep inside her.

“Ah! No! Stop!” Sofia cried out. The pain was sharp and hot, making her muscles clench tightly around him.

“You like it, don’t you?” Damien hissed. He slapped her bare skin with his open palm, the sound echoing in the room. “You’re a bad slave, Sofia. You run from me, but you leak for me.”

Crack! The belt hit her again. The pain was agonizing, but it sent a surge of blood to her core. Sofia felt a wave of pleasure so intense it made her dizzy. She tried to fight it. She told herself she hated him. She told herself this wasn’t lovemaking…

But then, Damien shifted his angle. He thrust upward, hard and fast, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Oh… Damien… please…” she gasped. It wasn’t a plea for him to stop anymore. It was a plea for more.

Damien felt his own control slipping. The way she gripped him, the way her soft, chubby thighs trembled against his legs—it was too much. He let go of the belt and gripped her waist so hard his claws began to prick her skin.

“Don’t you ever… think… of leaving me!” he roared.

He pushed himself into her one last time, deeper than before. The sensation hit Sofia like an explosion. Her vision went white as her walls squeezed him in a powerful climax. She screamed his name, her body shaking against the bedpost as she felt her own wetness spill over his skin.

At the same moment, Damien let out a guttural groan. He buried his face in her hair, his body stiffening as he released everything inside her. He held her there for a long time, both of them breathing like they had just run a race.

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock and Sofia’s quiet, broken sobs of shame. She had just had sex—and somehow enjoyed it—with the man who held her captive.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep