His whispers.
His gloved fingers on your hair.
It all seemed like a dream.
But the taste of his lips and mouth remained all too real as his breath left you breathless.
"K-König...please..."
Your voice hoarse as you felt your body trembling with need. You could almost believe that you were a free woman again, that you could have his protection and his attention for the rest of your life, that your troubles were behind you.
Oh, if only, y/n.
You had agreed to become his, after all.
You exchanged your freedom for your life.
"Please what, kleiner hase {little bunny}? Please stay? Please don't leave me? Please don't hurt me? Use your words, y/n."
His voice a tease, the shadows on his face dancing in the dim light. His lips moved to your neck to your lips, your breath caught in your throat as you felt his lips against your own.
"Don't throw me away...please."
You could only beg him. His lips hovering over yours as they grinned so smugly at you. His eyes behind his hood studying your flushed face.
His gloved hands both torturing and pleasing you, the chains on your ankle a sting on your skin, a reminder of who you belonged to.
"I'll be a good pet...a good bunny."
"I know you will, kleiner hase {little bunny}. You promised me after all."
The words left your mind blank.
He was your enemy.
Why were you begging for your life?
You're already his, y/n.
The sting of the chain a reminder of your position, a constant reminder of your place in the world: as his kleiner hase {little bunny}.
And yet, his voice made it feel like you were loved, cherished.
"You're my kleiner hase {little bunny}," he continued, his lips lingering on yours. "And that means you're mine, forever. Of course, I don't take disobedience so lightly, y/n. Remember that."
Day by day, he slowly loosened his grip over you. He took you to his meetings, as if your betrayals never happened.
Even as the chain was shed, you felt more controlled than ever. No longer were you chained in the room that reeked of suffering.
But you were shackled in different, insidious ways: to your captor and his whims.
"Sit down, kleiner hase."
Your skin flushed when he placed you in his lap. It was both a humiliating and intoxicating experience.
But it was a normal thing now.
You were his pet, and he was letting you in on his secrets.
But it wasn't like you listened to them.
You were too preoccupied with his hands teasing you, loving you.
The other men looked at you strangely—you were his favorite in more ways than one—but you were no longer a threat; you were a trophy, a pet.
You were his.
His gloved hands ran down your back, the whisper in your ear sweet and addictive.
Your body trembled under his touch, the caress lingering there for a long moment, or perhaps a short moment.
You couldn't quite tell anymore.
The days and nights blurred, and the only thing that connected them all together was his voice, his whispers in your ear, and the touch of his hands on your skin.
Your head told you this was wrong. So, so wrong.
Yet your body told you it was the most exhilarating feeling you had ever felt.
No one dared to question it. He brought you to another meeting, and sat you on his lap; no one dared to speak up, or to question the nature of your relationship.
The men looked at you strangely as his fingers continued their assault. His whispers in your ears kept coming, and there was no escape for you.
You were his.
His little trophy.
His little bunny.
There was no escape, kleiner hase.