The Tyrant's Secret fetish Chapter 78

Ye Jun

I barely had ti to yank my arm free before Si Woo slamd the bedroom door so hard the whole fra rattled like it was personally offended. He spun around by the wrist and shoved back against the wall next to my dresser, not gentle, not careful, just pure pissed-off alpha bullshit. My back hit the wood with a thud that knocked the breath out of for half a second, and his face was right there, inches away, eyes wild and nostrils flaring like he could already sll Ohm on even though the guy had only handed keys and hugged once.

"What type of whore are you, huh?" he hissed, voice so low it scraped. "Letting so rich Thai fuck buy you with a shiny new ride? You let him put his scent all over your car, all over you, like you’re his little oga prize now?"

I stared at him. Just stared. Then sothing snapped clean in half inside my chestnot heartbreak, not fear, just pure what-the-actual-fuck rage. My hand moved before my brain caught up. Open palm, full swing, cracked across his cheek so loud it echoed like a gunshot in the tiny room.

He froze.

I froze.

His head stayed turned to the side from the force of it, cheek already blooming red, jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack. For one stupid heartbeat neither of us breathed.

Then he slowly dragged his gaze back to , eyes blown wide, pupils huge, looking at like I’d just grown a second head and bitten him.

"Did you just... " he started, voice cracking on the disbelief.

"Yeah I fucking did," I cut in, chest heaving, hand still stinging. "Watch your ugly fucking mouth, Si Woo. You don’t get to talk to like that. You don’t get to call a whore when you’ve been balls-deep in every chance you get for weeks. Weeks. And now you wanna act like I owe you sothing? Like I’m your property? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

He blinked. Once. Twice. Like my words were hitting him in slow motion.

I didn’t give him ti to reboot.

"You stand downstairs screaming about how disgusting gay shit is, how it’s ruining the family, how I better not even think about touching another alpha anwhile you’re the one who’s been sneaking into my room at three a.m., pinning face-down, growling in my ear like so feral dog in rut. You’re the one who’s been making co so hard I forget my own na, then rolling off like it never happened. And now you’re disgusted? By ? By Ohm? Make it make sense, you hypocritical piece of shit."

His hand shot up like he was gonna grab my throat or my face or God knows what, but he stopped an inch away, fingers trembling. His breathing was all fucked up short, ragged, like he couldn’t decide whether to punch or kiss or throw up.

"You think you can just... " he tried again, voice shaking now, " you think you can take his car, take his hugs, take his fucking teddy bear nickna and act like I don’t exist? Like I didn’t mark you inside and out last week?"

I laughed. Not a nice laugh. A sharp, ugly bark.

"Mark ? You didn’t mark shit. You fucked . That’s it. No bite, no claim, no nothing. You made damn sure of that. Every single ti you pulled out and left leaking on my own sheets, you made sure nobody would ever know. So don’t stand here acting like I belong to you when you’ve spent every second pretending I don’t."

His face crumpled for one second just one, sothing raw and ugly flashing through the anger before he locked it down again.

"You’re mine," he growled anyway, stepping in closer, crowding so my head had to tip back against the wall. "You’ve always been mine."

"Bullshit," I spat right back. "You only want when no one else does. When I’m convenient. When Dad’s not around, when Mom’s asleep, when there’s no risk of anyone finding out what a liar you are. The second soone else looks at , really looks you lose your damn mind. That’s not owning . That’s being a pathetic, jealous asshole who can’t even admit he likes dick."

He flinched like I’d slapped him again.

I kept going because why the hell not? I was done swallowing it.

"You hate that Ohm gave sothing nice without wanting to bend over the hood afterward. You hate that he thinks I’m cute, not like I’m his hole to fill. You hate that maybe just maybe I could have soone who doesn’t treat like garbage the second we’re done. And you especially hate that you’re the garbage."

His hand finally landed not on my throat, on my jaw. Hard grip, thumb digging into the soft spot under my chin, forcing my head up so I had to look straight into those dark, fucked-up eyes.

"You don’t get to talk to like that," he said, but it ca out wrecked. Voice cracking on every other word.

"I just did," I whispered back, smiling even though my eyes were burning. "And I’ll do it again. You don’t own . You never did. You just borrowed until sothing better showed up."

That did it.

He crashed his mouth against mine so hard our teeth clicked. Not a kiss a claim. All tongue and desperation, like if he could just devour fast enough he could erase every word I’d just said. His free hand shoved under my shirt, palm flat and burning against my stomach, fingers splaying wide like he was trying to brand his prints into my skin. I tasted blood either he bit my lip or I bit his, didn’t matter.

I shoved at his chest. Hard.

He didn’t budge.

I shoved again, nails digging into his pecs through his shirt.

He growled into my mouth actually growled low and possessive and pathetic and bit down on the side of my neck, right where the skin was thinnest, not breaking skin but hard enough to bruise. I hissed, bucked against him, half trying to throw him off, half arching because my stupid oga body still rembered exactly what that growl did to .

"Mine," he snarled against my throat, sucking hard enough I knew it’d be purple by morning. "Say it."

"Fuck you," I gasped, but my voice cracked and my hips rolled forward without permission.

He laughed then short, bitter, broken. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

He yanked my head back by the hair, just enough to look at , eyes glassy and wild.

"You think you can wash off?" he said, almost soft now. Terrifyingly soft. "You think you can scrub out of your skin and pretend Ohm’s the one who gets to keep you? Go ahead. Try."

Then he shoved off so suddenly I almost fell. Turned. Yanked the door open. Slamd it behind him.

I stood there shaking, chest heaving, lip bleeding, neck throbbing, his scent everywhere thick, angry, alpha, covering like smoke. My legs gave out after maybe three seconds. I slid down the wall until my ass hit the floor, knees pulled up, forehead on them.

I laughed again. Quiet this ti. Hysterical little hiccups.

Because what the fuck was my life?

I sat there maybe a minute, maybe ten, I don’t know. Long enough for the sting in my palm to fade and the bite on my neck to start pulsing in ti with my heartbeat. Long enough to realize I could still taste him. Long enough to hate myself for wanting to taste him again.

Eventually I dragged myself up. Stumbled to the bathroom attached to my room. Slamd that door too, just because. Turned the shower on full blast, hottest setting, stripped so fast I ripped the hem of my shirt. Stepped under the spray and started scrubbing. Soap. More soap. Scrubbed my neck until it hurt, scrubbed my stomach where his hand had been, scrubbed between my legs like I could erase every ti he’d ever been there.

Didn’t work.

His scent clung. Stubborn. Like it lived in my fucking pores now.

I was mid-scrub head tipped back, water pounding my face, trying not to cry because crying would be the cherry on top of this shit sundae when the bathroom door banged open.

I yelped. Slipped. Caught myself on the glass.

Si Woo stood there. Still red-cheeked from the slap. Shirt wrinkled. Hair ssed up. Eyes locked on like a predator who’d just found his favorite toy again.

"Get out," I snapped, voice cracking under the water.

He didn’t move.

"Si Woo. Get. Out."

He stepped inside instead. Closed the door. Locked it.

The steam was already thick, curling around him like it knew he belonged here.

"You think you can just wash away?" he said again, quieter this ti. Almost sad. "You think that’s how it works?"

I turned my back to him, pressed my palms against the tile, let the water beat down on my shoulders.

"I’m trying," I muttered.

He laughed once short, painful.

"Yeah. I can see that."

He didn’t leave.

He just stood there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Like he knew I’d break first.

And fuck, maybe I would.