Who's the whore?

Chapter 13

Seraphina’s POV

I watched him with a narrow gaze – disdain and hate lacing in them – as he groaned in pleasure, gripping his already erect penis. And don't get me wrong, I didn't see his penis and I don't even want to see them. But the strain of his bulge on his pants were visible.

He got up all of a sudden, grinned devilishly at me, and then walked towards me. With a stupid wink, he slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe.

What is he doing? Why was he locking me in the bathroom?

Color immediately rose to my cheek as the event earlier replayed itself. Embarrassment dripped around me like a soaked puppy. My wrists throbbed where the cold marble floor of the dog cave had kissed them. My skin felt hot and aching from the body, my dignity hanging by a thread. Water dripped down my thighs, mixing with the remnants of the heat he left behind.

I stood there, shivering, the cold tiles beneath my feet biting at my skin. The air in the bathroom felt heavy, almost suffocating. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, a wild drum that refused to calm.

For a few seconds, I thought he was gone... gone to leave me here in this frozen little cage with my thoughts, my fear, and my shame.

I felt the sudden urge to cry but I restrained myself not wanting to give him that power.

"I won't cry." I said through gritted teeth.

But the sound of his footsteps returned. Steady. Each step echoing like the ticking of a clock. And I anticipated what he was going to do next because from the look he gave me, he wasn't done toying with me.

I heard the bedroom door creaking open. Heard him padded over to the bathroom door and unlocked it. And when he opened the door, he was standing there holding a bowl.

A perfectly porcelain white ordinary bowl… except it wasn’t ordinary. It was brimming with something cold. My stomach knotted as my eyes landed on the swirls of vanilla ice cream, topped with a few glossy red cherries melting slowly under the bathroom light.

I blinked repeatedly trying to get hold of the image. Did Leone seriously think he could bribe me into forgiving him for humiliating and embarrassing me?

It was an ice cream, and I knew leone wasn't entirely the type of man to offer a woman one, most especially one he loathes. But he was standing with one, and for no reason I prayed I was wrong.

But then his lips curved — not a smile, but something darker, sharper.

My heart sank.

No!

He smirked at my expression, the gleam in his eyes almost boyish… as if he were born of cruelty and sadism.

“You shouldn’t have refused my offer earlier,” he said, his voice smooth like silk draped over a blade.

"But you know what, I hate my women challenging me." he continued lazily, dipping the spoon into the ice cream and lifting it to his lips.

His tongue dragged across the metal, slow and deliberate, like he knew I was watching like every movement was a message. “Now it only makes me more eager to do it.”

I flinched and stepped backward but I was trapped. There was nowhere to run and hide. I was at the mercy of this man. And unfortunately, the lycan monster doesn't do mercy.

“I couldn’t stop imagining it,” he murmured darkly. “You, covered in ice cream…" He dipped the spoon into the ice cream, lifted it, and let the creamy mound glisten in the light. “…dripping down every inch of you… while I licked you clean whilst tasting every bit of you. It would be a fucking turn-on.”

I hated the way his words curled into my skin like heat, the way they left an ache in my throat. To make matters worse, my body reacted to his dark words and I could feel the heat pumping in me, wanting this even though I don't want it all the same.

I did the only thing my pride allowed me to do – I spit at him. The small, pitiful act felt satisfying for exactly half a second.

His eyes flashed dangerously and the glint in them was unforgiving.

“Whore,” I hissed, the word sharp like broken glass.

My stomach twisted in revulsion. “You sick, twisted whore,” I hissed out again, venom coating my voice like acid.

His jaw ticked and I could see the struggle in his eyes. He was fighting back the urge to hit me

But the change in him was instant. He set the bowl down, straightened, and without a word, crossed to his wardrobe. I thought I’d won.

My pulse stumbled when I saw what he pulled out, a long silk tie, black and sleek, the kind that could strangle or seduce.

He returned to me, movements slow, deliberate, almost ritualistic. I backed up until my spine met the bathroom wall. There was something darker in his gaze sweeping over my nude more – something darker than lust.

My breath hitched.

“No—” I started, but he didn’t wait

With practiced hands, he caught my wrists, yanking and twisting them above my head. The tie coiled around them, tightly. He fastened it to the door hook, leaving me stretched, vulnerable. The silk cut into my skin with every twitch.

Panic bloomed in my chest as realization dawned on me.

“You bastard—”

My words were cut as he brought out a white handkerchief from his pocket and shoved it between my lips, knotting it at the back of my head.

“Maybe I might think you’re prettier if you keep your mouth shut,” he spat, voice low, laced with mockery.

I screamed against the gag, muffled and wild.

"Stop struggling, little wolf. It turns me on." He smiled watching me with an amused look.

I bit down on the cloth in defiance, but he sighed and tied it firmly, forcing my mouth closed. I wriggled against my restraints, but the tie held firm. My pride screamed louder than my fear, yet both tangled together in my chest.

My words, my protests were all stolen from me in one swift move.

He stepped back with the bowl. “Hold still, art needs stillness.”

The first spoonful of ice cream landed on my collarbone. The chill pierced my skin like tiny knives. My gasp was muffled against the gag. The cold began to melt instantly, trickling down my skin in thin streams.

The drip was slow… agonizingly slow. And this was the part where I was in pain. I couldn't tell him to make it faster.

Leone's eyes were fixed intently on me as he tipped the bowl on me and the cold hit me like a slap.

Vanilla cascaded down my chest, slid between the valley of my breasts and pooling between it, meandered over the slope of my ribs, trailing my stomach, and dripping – dripping – into the warm heat between my thighs. I thrashed, the cold shocking me, humiliating me but my binds held.

Leone stepped back to look at me—no, to admire me. His eyes drank in every droplet, every shiver, every twitch of muscle.

On instinct I pressed my thighs together instinctively, hating myself for feeling anything at all. But it was too late and useless.

The bathroom became quiet except for the sound of melting ice cream and my ragged breathing.

He crouched slightly, observing me like I was a fucking painting. Damn bastard!

He leaned forward, close enough that his breath warmed my chilled skin. His gaze found a spot, a bead of melted cream clinging stubbornly.

Then he reached forward, swiped a glob from my nipple with his finger, slow enough to set my nerves on fire.

Then… that same finger disappeared into his mouth, his eyes closing briefly, savoring something only he could taste and sucking it off with a low groan.

I hated him for it.

I hated myself more for the way my knees weakened.

My thighs clenched. Not from cold but from something darker.

No, no, no...

I hated my body for the way it responded.

For the heat rushing back.

For the shiver that wasn’t from the freezing dessert.

The gag muffled a sound I didn’t mean to make. He noticed. Of course he noticed. He always did.

He tilted his head, lips curving into that almost-smile again. “What’s this?” His voice dripped with mockery. “Are you… shivering from the cold… or something else?”

My eyes narrowed, but the heat in my cheeks betrayed me.

He reached up, untied the gag, letting it fall. Slowly, gently, like nothing had just happened. My mouth was free, but my voice was gone.

“You have nothing to say now?” he teased, leaning close enough that the faint scent of him – wood, smoke, danger – filled my senses.

I swallowed hard. “Go to hell.” My voice cracked on the last word.

"As you wish, little wolf, I'll take us both to hell." And with that he scooped a portion of the ice-cream and smeared it all over my lips. My lips parted up in a sigh just as his lips merged with mine, sealing them in a slow kiss.

His hot tongue slaked out and licked the ice-cream off my lips. My heart was hammering wildly in my chest and I closed my eyes, getting lost in the feeling.

When he delved deeper and his tongue grazed mine, I tasted the cream mixed with his wood-smoke scent on his lips and I let out a breathy moan.

Leone pulled away and without breaking eye contact, he scooped another portion and rubbed it on my neck.

The cooling sensation took my breath away and caused a familiar heat to pool in my stomach.

Slowly, he leaned closer and kissed my neck, licking the ice-cream along as he went.

Without thinking about my action my hands reached forward and gripped his shoulders just as I tilted my neck to the side to give him more access.

“Hmm.” I murmured breathlessly as I closed my eyes. The sensation, the feeling of his warm lips against my cool neck was heavenly.

A moan of protest escaped my lips when he pulled away but he only smirked and placed a quick kiss on my temple.

“I'm going to make it better,” he promised. His eyes were dark and heated with arousal when he cupped my breast and twirled his finger around my nipple, and licked the ice cream off his finger.

He answered with a groan and dipped his head between the valley of my breasts, sucking and licking away every trace of ice-cream left.

“So sweet, little wolf.” he murmured against my skin over and over again.

“Should I continue?" he asked slowly as he pulled away.

I was so turned on that I wanted nothing more than to feel his lips back on me, on every inch of my skin. So, I nodded.

I watched Blake look at me in sensual silence and he sucked in a deep breath.

He dived in for them again, sucking and nibbling on the precious buds like a mouse.

My fingers found their way to his silky strands and I threaded them softly, arching my back to give him more access to my breasts as I was enjoying this new found feeling.

He gave a bite to the soft flesh above my nipple and I dug my fingers deeper into his head as I squirmed beneath him.

The pleasure, the ecstasy, it was all becoming too much.

“More." I whispered, clutching onto him like my life depended on it.

“You'd have to work for the next part,” He said with a wink as I zipped my blouse.

Something flickered in his gaze… triumph, maybe. Or hunger.

He untied my wrists suddenly. The silk fell to the floor like a snake. I barely had time to bring my arms down before his parting words cut through me.

“Because this might be the only part you get to enjoy.”

My breath came in a short time as I couldn't think of anything to say.

He leaned closer, his lips ghosting my ear, voice like a knife against skin.

“Now who’s the whore?”

I opened my mouth to scream, to curse, to spit again.

But he was already gone.

The door closed behind him with a soft, decisive click, and the warmth of his presence vanished with it leaving me sagging against it. My legs buckled, and I slid to the cold floor, arms wrapped around myself.

The ice cream still clung to my skin, sticky and sweet but it felt like poison.

I stayed there, alone, humiliated, confused and shaking – not from the cold and shame anymore, but from the chaos he had left inside me.

From something else I refused to name.