The Cage: 8. Cracks in the Walls

The cage was quieter after punishment.

The echoes of her cries still clung to the steel, mingled with the rough sound of his growls, the sharp rhythm of flesh meeting flesh. Her body still throbbed from the strikes of his hand, her thighs ached from the brutal claiming, but it was her heart that trembled most.

Because even when he had tried to punish her, even when he had thrust into her with fury meant to remind her of her place—she had seen it.

The crack.

The weakness.

The moment when his voice broke, when his thrusts weren’t about control anymore but about need.

And she wasn’t going to let him bury it. If anything, she was going to make the crack bigger.  He was not the only person who could turn things to his advantage. What was that he said a few days ago? "I will turn every resistance, defiance to hunger, every escape to surrender. We'll she could do the same and planned on doing just that. 

He sat now in the chair again, hea