Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

I fell to my knees, my teeth clenched but still shaking as
his hand stayed in my hair.
“Please,” I whispered, closing my eyes in disgust at
myself. “Please.”
“Again.”
“Please,” I begged.
I waited for him to say something—to say I could have my
dog back—but he just stood there, holding me by my hair.
He just stood there.
Was this what he wanted to see? Me degraded? Me scared?
He loved me scared. It got him excited.
I actually thought I liked it, too, once.
And as the seconds passed, and he held me there as my
heart thumped in my chest, it was like we were teenagers
again for a moment.
When I liked the games he played with me. Before I
realized I was the toy.
The terror and the dread. But the exhilaration and the
safety I felt in his arms.
How I’d never hated anyone as much as I hated him, but
how I loved what I felt with him more than I loved anything I
felt with anyone else, either. I was so stupid.
His fingers started to move, caressing me so softly as his
breathing turned heavy and strained. “Winter…”
My clit throbbed once, and I broke, silently crying as
shame heated my cheeks.
What the hell had he done to me?
He pulled me up, pushing my hair behind my shoulder and
his voice suddenly normal.
“GGood girl,” he told me. “Of course, you can have your
dog. Did you think I was a monster?