Chained To Him [Editing]

Chapter Forty

"I'm sorry—"

"Undress, and be swift." The calm in his eye unnerved her. He didn't even seem to be angry anymore; this was purely a lesson in obedience, unmotivated by his jealousy or temper.

"If we could just—"

"Believe me that you will not want me to do it for you."

"What are you going to do?" She wanted to tuck her arms around herself, but remained still instead, aware that she was contradicting him by even asking a question. Her eyes followed his hands as they unbuckled the belt at his waist, the snick of leather and the clink of the buckle seeming to fill the room. He let the leather fold over his knuckles, no sign of emotion on his face as he looked at her, save for a clear warning in his eye.

"Jayde."

It would happen whether she resisted or not, and showing obedience now would let him trust her. Jayde nodded and reached for the cinches of her bodice up her back. Her gowns for so long had been little slips of fabric, meant to be taken off easily, and the sudden change to proper attire was welcome. She wished only that it signified a change of position, but really, her place now was not so different even if Aragon chose to favor her differently.

Aragon watched her fumble with the ties behind her and motioned for her to turn around. Setting her wrists by her side, he deftly unknotted the lace until she could slip out of the stiff fabric of her bodice. She welcomed the fact that she didn't have to look at him now as she undressed the rest of the way, until she stood naked in the unfamiliar room, aware of the man and the leather belt behind her.

"You remember your positions," he said softly, and she was glad that he couldn't see the flush of shame on her face as she spread her legs slightly, raising her arms to lace her fingers behind her head. Was this what he had wanted when he first sent her to be a pleasure slave – a muted version of herself that willingly slipped into position when she was to be punished?

She heard the rustle of his clothing and imagined him lifting his arm, and she remembered that place inside of her that she went during training, when the pain and humiliation of her beatings were almost too much to bear. The feeling of complacency didn't come as easily now, as the first first bite of leather met her back, and a jagged cry found its way from her throat. She reminded herself not to cry, not until he'd put the belt away, though her eyes stung with the effort of holding in her tears. The second hit was a little softer than the first, and Jayde managed to stifle her noise a bit, but she was sure the sound of leather meeting flesh could be heard all the way down the hall. She knew what the soldiers must think of her already, a concubine that somehow caught Aragon's fancy, but somehow it would be harder to face them tomorrow after they listened to her beating.

A few more hits and Jayde began to control her breathing, restraining her sounds to soft groans each time he struck. Aragon said nothing, gave no count or sign of how long he intended to beat her. During training, Jayde had been able to endure her punishment with the knowledge that afterwards she would return to her quarters, to Aylah and her sympathetic smile and warm embrace. But beyond this moment there was only Aragon, an expanse of time without respite or a private place to let down her defenses.

Jayde wasn't sure if Aragon had increased the force of his blows or if she was simply losing some of her willpower, but it was impossible not to cry out now, regardless of who might hear or how it might anger him. She clenched her fingers together in an effort to maintain her position, but every muscle in her body strained with the effort to lurch forward, to shield herself and fight back. A few strikes dropped low onto the backs of her thighs, and Jayde wavered in her stance, feeling herself suddenly uncoil and her resolve loosen.