CREWE'S POINT OF VIEW
She tried to push me away with her legs, but that didn't work either. She hissed through her teeth, sweaty and breathless from the useless effort. She was too small and too weak to overpower someone like me.
Still, I enjoyed watching her struggle.
"You can't beat me. Stop trying."
"I'll never stop," she said between breaths. "One day you're going to let your guard down, and when you do, I'll hit you where it hurts."
I spread her legs apart with my knees, putting her in a vulnerable position.
She immediately tensed, and for the first time, genuine fear appeared on her face. It was the first sign of fear she had shown. It was a trigger I could press whenever I wanted.
"Don't..."
It was her first plea.
The ball was in my court, and I felt a rush of adrenaline. I pressed my face close to hers and felt her breath against my lips.
"You don't want me to touch you? I promise you'll enjoy it."
She stared into my eyes. All her courage and strength seemed to disappear.
I had the advantage. I had the power. And I intended to use it to my benefit.
"If you don't want it, say please."
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her hesitation came from stubbornness, not willingness. She didn't want to bend to me, didn't want to obey any order I gave. She knew it would strip away the little power she still had.
I moved my hand toward the belt of my jeans and unfastened it.
"Please."
She spat the word out quickly as she twisted beneath me.
"Please what?"
"Please... don't..."
She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.
I had already established my dominance and control, and that was all I wanted. I pushed myself off her and stood up.
"You're coming with me. Now."
"Where?"
She immediately curled into the corner of the cot like a frightened animal. Pulling her knees against her chest, she tried to hide behind them.
I stood at the foot of the bed, fixing her with a terrifying stare.
"Get up. Now."
I grabbed her ankle and dragged her off the cot until her back hit the floor. Then I seized her hair and pulled her upright.
"Obey me, or I'll make you obey."
I tilted her head back so she was staring at the ceiling and lowered my mouth to her ear.
"Any questions?"
"No."
I released her hair and walked out of the cell.
She caught her breath before following me, never taking her eyes off me.
I locked the cell behind her and pointed toward the stairs.
"Go up."
She went first and climbed to the door. It was unlocked, so she stepped into the house.
My hand settled against the back of her neck, though I didn't dig my fingers into her skin the way I usually liked to. I guided her through the house, past the grand dining room, beneath the vaulted ceiling of the entrance hall, and past the first sitting room where logs still burned in the fireplace.
I led her upstairs to the bedroom she would soon occupy. The large bathroom contained a spacious shower enclosed by a glass door. I pushed her inside and released her once she stood in front of it.
"Take off your clothes."
She had been wearing them for four days. They were destined for the trash.
The fire returned to her eyes. She looked at me with disbelief and outrage.
"Didn't you hear me?" I asked through clenched teeth, unwilling to waste time arguing.
"I'll take off my clothes if you leave."
I shook my head.
"That's not how this works, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that," she hissed.
"What would you prefer? Slave?"
She raised her hand and tried to slap me.
I nearly let her do it, but it was more important to establish my authority. I caught her wrist and pinned her arm against her side. Then I struck her across the cheek hard enough to leave it red.
She gasped in shock. Her head remained turned to the side, stunned by what I'd done.
I grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
"If you don't want me to hit you, don't hit me. If you don't want me to hurt you, do what I say."
I squeezed her shoulders before letting go.
Leaning against the wall, I crossed my arms and waited.
She brushed her hair away from her face, her cheek still red where my hand had landed. There were no tears in her eyes, but she looked defeated, realizing it was safer to obey than to challenge me.
She touched the hem of her shirt without removing it. She was searching for a way out of her situation, but unfortunately for her, there wasn't one. She was paying the price for her brother's stupidity, unfair as that might be.
Finally, she pulled the shirt over her head, revealing a white bra.
She turned on the hot water and let it warm up before unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down her long legs. She never looked at me while doing it, ashamed that she had been forced to obey.
She hesitated when she was left in her underwear, knowing that in a few moments I would see every inch of her skin.
She had long, slender legs and a toned stomach. Her arms were slim but athletic. She clearly spent time at the gym.
She unclasped her bra. Before removing it, however, she turned around so I couldn't see her chest.
For a moment, I considered ordering her to face me.
She placed the bra on top of the pile of clothes and reached for the last remaining piece of clothing. Wanting to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible, she stepped into the shower and closed the door behind her.
The hot water welcomed her immediately. Her hair clung to her neck as it became soaked, and she grabbed a bottle of shampoo and worked it into her scalp, washing away days of dirt and grease.
I watched the water run over her silhouette through the steam gathering on the glass.
She remained beneath the water longer than necessary, probably savoring the feeling of being clean. Until now, she'd been trapped in the same clothes while dirt accumulated on her skin and hair. Now that the luxury had been taken away, she appreciated it more than ever.
"That's long enough," I ordered.
She glanced at the controls before shutting off the water.
I handed her a thick towel.
She immediately wrapped herself in it, concealing her body. Then she patted herself dry and finally looked at me again with the same obvious dislike.
"You should dry your hair. You could get sick."
I pointed toward the hair dryer.
She looked at it before looking back at me.
"As if I care about getting sick."
"Well, I do. I don't want you giving me a cold."
I smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
She looked even angrier.
She dried her hair quickly, combing through it with her fingers while keeping the towel secured above her chest. When she finished, she bent down to pick up her clothes and discovered they were gone.
"What did you do with them?"
"You won't be wearing them anymore."
I picked up the outfit resting on the bed.
"You'll wear this from now on."
It was a long gray dress made of thick cotton with sleeves.
She tightened the towel around herself and stared at the dress with disappointment.
"I'm supposed to wear that in the cell?"
"You could wear it here if you behaved yourself."
She grabbed the dress and headed toward the bathroom.
"No need, sweetheart. You can get dressed right here."
I sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned back on my elbows.
The look she gave me was even more hateful than before. She managed to put on her underwear beneath the towel before letting it fall and pulling the dress over her head.
Even without makeup or styled hair, she looked stunning.
She still carried herself with pride, but at least she was obeying me.
"It's up to you what happens next."
She was afraid of me, but not afraid enough.
TO BE CONTINUED... ❤️
Tell me honestly in the comments: do you hate Crewe... or is he already starting to intrigue you? 👀
What do you think? Does Crewe only want to control her... or is he already beginning to develop an interest in her?