He kisses me again, softly, in such contrast to all the harsh, possessive things he’s saying. “So I’m going to use you up as long as I’m here. I’m going to kiss you, bite you, suck on your tits, play with your cunt. As much as I want. Whenever I want. You’re my prize, Blue. You’re my prize for all the fucking suffering.” Prize. I’m his prize. The rush of his words feels sweeter than the orgasm last night. So much sweeter. I’ve never been a prize for anyone. No one’s ever wanted me as a reward, as a trophy for all the suffering, for all the misery. Yes, I’ll be his prize.
