Owned by Him (Editing)

The evening after being allowed to dine with Jordan and his men was not as ghastly as I had first anticipated. Jordan had allowed me to change into one of his shirts and we had rested in his bed, watching his large flatscreen. He had made sure to avoid all of the news channels and obviously chose a movie that he wanted to watch. I didn't quarrel with that though, I was just grateful to be sleeping in a luxury king size bed with a thick, warm duvet.

As the evening went on, Jordan commanded me to rest my head on his chest. As I was expected to, I followed his order and rested my head just beneath his chin. It hurt me to do it. The strong scent of his musk combined with the shower gel he had lathered himself in reminded me of when we had first started dating. It was that very enticing odour that once made me feel so inexplicably happy. Now...that very smell made my stomach churn and my heart pound with dread.

I laid as still as I was able to but Jordan, he gently pulled out my braid and continuously stroked his fingers through my hair.

When the movie had finished, Jordan instructed me to lay down and it was here that I feared the worst. At that point, I had only been beaten and inappropriately touched but I hadn't been harmed sexually. The sense of trepidation was soul-consuming, yet I did as I was told and rested my head down on the duck-feather pillow.

"Give me your wrists, my little dove."

I did. I took a deep breath as he vined his belt around the iron headboard of his bed. Strategically, my wrists were tethered to the side of my head rather than above. As far as having one's hands bound goes, this was the most comfortable position I had experienced. Once Jordan was convinced I could not do a runner, he climbed on top of me, his arms placed steadily at either side of my head.

"Maybe, one day soon..." He punctuated his words with small kisses against my jawline.

"I won't have to tie you up like this."

I remained still, trying to keep control of both my anxiety and my breathing that was becoming shallower by the second.

The kissing was as far as it went for which I was thankful. Jordan whispered that he would not "take me" until I wanted him too.

Little did he know that my submission expanded only to my behaviour, not my choices. I would never willingly allow him to "take me".

The following morning, Jordan commanded me to go to the kitchen and wash the dishes. He had told me that he had some business to discuss with Jase and Silas. Wesley had been allocated to watch over me. I was escorted down to the kitchen where a cuff was latched around my right ankle. The cuff was attached to a metre's length of chain which Wesley held the opposite end of.

There was a mountain of dishes and countless pieces of cutlery. The knives looked spectacularly inveigling. I mulled the idea of using one to stab Wesley and run. I considered the idea of picking one up and running the jagged edges across the prominent veins in my wrist. Or perhaps plunging one deep into my heart.

I was pulled from the thoughts when Phoenix entered the kitchen. He placed his bowl at the side of the sink. He said nothing and left as quickly as he had entered. Seeing him had left my chest aching. It felt as if I had a cavernous hole in my chest that caused immense emotional hurt but then, just as they had done so before, Silas' words kicked in and I put the agony aside and continued to wash the dishes.

Once my chore was completed, Wesley walked me to Jordan's office.

Jordan was on the phone when we walked in and of course, he was still wary of my behaviour and so gestured for Wesley to cover my mouth until he had finished the call. It wasn't long but being pressed up against Wesley's full erection was extremely uncomfortable in every sense.