The Cage
352 Words
Chapter 11 – The Cage
The next morning, Alesia woke to find her phone gone.
Her clothes too.
Only his shirt remained—black, oversized, smelling of him. She reached for the closet.
It was locked.
Nico had left her one thing: his mark.
A fresh bruise on her inner thigh. A faint handprint on her hip. Her lips were swollen, her neck raw from the collar. She looked like a woman claimed.
Because she was.
The door opened.
Nico entered, a key ring in one hand, a tray of breakfast in the other.
“You’ll eat,” he said. “You’ll bathe. Then you’ll sit with me. That’s your day now.”
Her heart pounded. “You took my phone.”
“You don’t need it.”
“I want my life back.”
He knelt in front of her. His hand wrapped around her throat—not tight, just enough to control her breath.
“You don’t have a life anymore, Alesia. You have me.”
He fed her a piece of fruit, watching her mouth close around his fingers.
When she finished, he carried her into the shower. Washed her himself. His hands were rough, possessive, sliding over every inch of her body like they had a right to memorize it.
Then he pushed her against the glass wall.
“You’re clean now,” he growled. “But I’m going to make you dirty again.”
And he did.
There—under hot water, steam thickening around them—he thrust into her so hard she cried out. One hand pressed to the fogged glass, the other gripping his hair as he took her like he owned her soul. Each movement was raw, deliberate.
“I chain you,” he whispered against her lips, “because you’re too dangerous to be free.”
When she shattered, his name tore from her throat.
And afterward, when he wrapped her in a towel and carried her back to the bed, she didn’t fight.
Because the truth was sinking in:
She wasn’t just in a cage.
She was starting to love it.
- Writer
