Forbidden Sensations: A Dark Romance by Savannah Rose

Author:Savannah Rose [Rose, Savannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

SOFIA

The trouble with having a pet is that you have to take care of it if you want it to live.

I didn't want Maddox to live, which made our current scenario such a weird juxtaposition. The fates are funny like that, and as I've heard it said, everything happens for a reason. My 'everything' was wrecking the Insatiable, which led me to the 'reason'. I'd found the shithead's Achilles heel.

I'd known people like him, but never to his degree of perversion. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out this guy was a freak for his fetishes.

The night I'd spent spread eagled on his bed like some double-D heroine in a bondage movie was a crash course in what made this fucker tick. He lived for his cock. He existed for his power. Maddox was nothing more than a ten-figure junkie, and his drugs of choice were sex and domination.

And yessiree, withdraws were a bitch.

Up until very recently, I didn't believe that sexual addiction was a real condition. The way he'd screamed, though, when I denied him his pleasure – brought him right up to the edge of his climax then took it away – I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. His anguish. His pain. It was fascinating. And no one deserved it more.

That's why my waterproof notebook was becoming a journal. As I watched him pant like the dog he was, catching his breath after such a catastrophic denial, I wrote down my observations.

As I sat on the outcrop of rocks, waiting for a fish to bite and listening to the roar of the waves, I contemplated how I felt about it.

They were new feelings. Very foreign to me. I'd have to marinate on them for a while, but I suspected – just as I suspected Maddox's fuck-reliance could be used against him, ten points for me – I could grow to like those feelings.

I'd been a zombie for so long. Grieving was the only emotion I knew. All the better to enjoy myself, and being able to take revenge on the son of a bitch responsible for my misery was a gift from the gods.

The fates are funny like that.

So, to take care of him in a sense was a reasonable give-and-take.

I'd give.

I'd take.

I'd love every god damn minute of it.

Even if it killed him. Especially if it killed him.

I thought these lovely things as I washed my knife. A clean campsite is a happy camp site, and this little island had all the possibilities of becoming the happiest place on earth.

I swirled the boa around in the pot I was using to hold gray water, brought it out, and watched the drips fall from the blade. One by one. They were like tears.

“Hey, Sofia?”

I didn't turn around.

“Sofee, the cuffs. They're really hurting.”

Next to the pot, the rag-gag. It was super disgusting. And he was whining.

I took the knife, and the gag, back to where he was tied. His eyes got satisfyingly wide when he saw the shredded fabric in my hand.

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