Chapter 17 #2
Not only did he exude brutal power but also an air of something almost royal. Why not? I bit back a nervous laugh even as he slammed his hand on the men’s bathroom door.
When I tried to pull away, he stopped just long enough to provide me with a chastising look.
Once we were inside, the two men washing their hands were tossed out with nothing more than a look. He barely checked the two stalls, turning his full attention to me. His men would keep anyone from entering. How convenient.
I gave him a rebellious look knowing that only turned him on. As expected, the thick bulge between his legs throbbed.
He took the time to remove his jacket, tossing it over the edge of the stall door. Seeing his holster was chilling, but also in the strangest way completely comforting. I felt safe with him. He’d stop at nothing to keep me protected.
“Turn around, my little liar.”
The bastard knew how much I hated the phrase, but hearing the deep vibration in his voice continued to be exciting.
I did as I was told, facing the mirror. In being able to see his reflection, I was even more enthralled than before. Without blinking, he unfastened his belt. Taking his time to do so.
Driving me to the point of madness within seconds.
By the time he’d unbuckled and even before starting to pull the thick leather from his belt loops, I was trembling all over.
He ripped up my dress, his breathing more labored than before. I glared at him, but in the process of doing so licked my lips. His response was a slow and dedicated gaze down to my exposed bottom. I’d never felt so vulnerable.
Or so embarrassed.
As he rolled his fingertips under the material, I shuddered.
“Open your legs for me,” he continued.
Why did I feel like stomping my feet before doing so? I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Being insolent with him wasn’t a good idea.
Obey. Just obey.
And so I did.
The noise coming from the speakers outside the bathroom was just as unsettling as what was about to happen, although my breathing continued to be pronounced.
The deep bass of whatever music was being performed matched the dull thudding of my heart.
He was forcing me to wait, boosting the anticipation.
Goosebumps popped over my arms, the same cold chill as before shifting over and down my body to the floor.
His reflection kept me enamored, but the serious look on his face was as if he was lost in time. Or somewhere else. His slow approach was unnerving and I grimaced, resisting digging my nails into the polished surface.
“Tonight you’re going to receive twenty-five lashes. That should be an excellent reminder that rules are meant to be followed.”
His voice was imperious. He was enjoying the hell out of this, lording his power and authority over me. I almost argued with him that the punishment didn’t fit the crime but stopped myself. That’s what he was waiting for. That would be his victory. Not a chance.
The whooshing sound was nothing like I would have expected, although the slight crack of his wrist was pronounced. I closed my eyes briefly, gritting my teeth.
When the first hard strike was issued, I felt nothing.
Perhaps because of the level of adrenaline rushing through me or maybe because of fear.
While the force tossed me forward, I recovered quickly, a roar of anger shifting into my system.
How dare he do this? I wasn’t some plaything.
I was a woman he’d shown interest in. Right?
Or maybe he’d been playing me all along.
I shoved hard against the counter, immediately rewarded with a forceful push from his hand.
“Damn you,” I managed, lifting my heated gaze toward his reflected face. His eyes were shimmering. The man was enjoying this. Enjoying my torment.
When he took a deep whiff, I knew instantly he was well aware I was wet.
“Fighting me isn’t in your best interest,” he hissed, yanking hair over my shoulder and exposing my neck.
He didn’t hesitate, delivering four in rapid succession.
Almost instantly the pain jetted into every cell and muscle, nearly destroying my resolve, a slight whimper slipping up from my throat.
I blinked several times, shoving away the tears that had already formed. The bastard wasn’t going to see me cry.
Like some bad little girl.
No way.
Not in this lifetime.
His heated breath danced across the skin on my neck and when he pressed his hand on the small of my back, I almost lashed out. Instead, I took gulping breaths, twisting my hips back and forth. The pain was as vibrantly alive as the strange desire crawling through me.
“You’re doing very well.”
I opened my mouth to retort then thought better of it. Every synapse was on fire, my blood racing. When he slipped his fingers down the crack of my ass, I hung my head, stars in vibrant colors floating in front of my eyes.
“And you’re very wet. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying this.”
“No!”
He chuckled, his fingers brushing across my pussy lips. “Your body tells me otherwise. We continue.”
We? Who the hell was he kidding?
He gave me four additional cracks, one right after the other, two hitting my upper thighs. This time, there was no holding back my anguished whimpers.
“Oh… Please stop. I just…” What could I say that would make any difference?
“That’s enough. I won’t tolerate any more of your complaints. You earned yourself a severe punishment and that’s what you’re getting.”
He issued four more, each one harder than the one before.
I was confused, the scent of my feminine wiles wafting into my face, filling my nostrils.
Was I truly excited from this wretched, horrible experience?
The answer was terrifying. My fingers were clawing the counter and one leg bending at the knee from the agony, but all I could think about was his rugged body and the touch of his hand.
No. I had to fight this man any way I could.
He wasn’t going to rule me. Not now. Not ever.
“Imagine if you could be a good girl for me.”
“I’m not your girl.”
“That’s where you’re very wrong.”
I couldn’t resist laughing. The heat on my body was explosive, burning the backs of my legs and he honestly believed I could or would care about being a nice girl in order to receive his good graces? Oh, he was out of his mind.
The spanking continued. Long. Hard. Every stroke ripped a moan from my throat. The man knew what he was doing, leaving my bottom red and swollen, and my pussy wet and aching.
When it was over, I hung my head, willing myself to hate the man. To loathe him and all his stood for. But the wafting scent of my desire and the wetness between my legs only confirmed the mess he’d made me.
“I find it difficult to resist you,” he said quietly, once again dipping his fingers to my pussy, sliding them up and down several times.
“However, you seem to forget that I can and will take you in any manner I see fit. You belong to me. The sooner you begin to accept and follow through with the deal you made, the better off your experience will be.”
“I have no intentions of allowing you to own me.”
“I guess we shall see. Won’t we?” He continued his controlling glare as he slipped his belt through the loops, the same sexy smirk on his face.
My face remained flushed as I smoothed down my dress, refusing to give him the time of day. But I continued to tingle all over, trying my best to hold my head high when he threw open the door. Thankfully, his men paid us little attention.
He remained completely silent as he led me back to the table. It felt as if everyone was watching us. How utterly embarrassing.
I refused to alter my expression as I sat down even though my bottom hurt like hell. With the wine as a prop, I did my best to try to ignore him.
He was surprisingly patient for a few minutes, allowing me to enjoy pretending as if he didn’t exist.
But it was short-lived. The man was completely used to getting everything he wanted. Maybe he’d learn that wasn’t acceptable.
“I was hoping that we could consider ourselves business partners and that’s entirely up to you. Whatever the case, you entered into a deal and you will follow the rules.”
My laugh was involuntary. “I don’t think you becoming my landlord means I’ll be your partner.”
“Perhaps I might surprise you. Now, answer that question for me. What are your favorite things?”
He was intent on forcing me to have a polite conversation with him.
“I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
“It’s simple. What excites you? What makes you happy?”
“You really think I’m going to have this conversation with you?”
As soon as he leaned over the table, I caught a masculine whiff of his aftershave.
Woodsy. Musky. Citrusy. All the scents I preferred in a man.
While he needed nothing to embolden his powerful aura or the masculinity he had wrapped around him in spades, the intense sensations fueled by his aftershave were a harsh reminder of my desire.
“Does that mean you have secrets, my little liar?” He was obviously enjoying making me feel extremely uncomfortable.
“Don’t call me a liar. I pride myself in telling the truth. I doubt you can say the same thing.”
“What have I lied to you about?”
“Who and what you are. You presented yourself as a decent human being. Instead, you’re a ruthless predator.”