Chapter 12 #2
Was he kidding me? There was nothing like the brutal art of fucking a woman?
I reminded myself that he was attempting to throw me off. I had to find additional defiance to fight the asshole. Fire with fire. Spears with spears.
“ Y no hay nada como la idea de castrar a un hombre .”
And there is nothing like the thought of castrating a man.
He burst into laughter, the husky sound shifting over my almost naked body like smooth velvet. “I do so adore your spunk. It’s going to be one of the most incredible feelings to break you.”
I slowly slid one strap down my arm then the other as I kept my eyes on him, a smile on my face. “I assure you that will never happen.”
“We shall see.”
He sat up on the edge of his seat, shifting his glass from hand to hand.
The man was chomping at the bit. I held out the bra, dangling it like the carrot I knew he craved before allowing it to drop to the floor.
The moment I slipped my fingers under the thin elastic of my thong, I was certain he was going to launch himself toward me.
He was a famished man.
I tried to act as if I didn’t care what was happening while lowering my thong.
However, the moment I tossed the lace to the side, I almost had a panic attack.
I’d only been with two men in my life, both of which had been less than memorable.
Maybe I’d once been the kind of woman hoping to find the right man, the perfect guy so eventually I’d have the quaint house on a cul-de-sac with a white picket fence and a red door.
How silly of me and how American.
I knew now that would never happen.
“Good girl. Plant your hands on the edge of the desk and spread your legs.”
Swallowing, I thought about my brother and sister once more before obeying him.
Once I was in place, it took the asshole a full two minutes before he stood. He was attempting mental torture before providing it physically. He’d mentioned patience. He had no idea how much I’d had my entire life.
He took his sweet time walking to a cabinet on the other side of the room. With his back turned, I glanced in his direction, able to see various horrific-looking implements.
Including what appeared to be a bullwhip.
My entire body tensed, but I closed my eyes and mentally prepared for the agony. I could take it. The pain would eventually go away.
What if he scarred me?
Then I’d wear the marks like a badge of honor.
I finally heard his footsteps a few seconds later. After that, I heard a whooshing sound and opened my eyes.
“There is something very magical about a strong birch cane. While the reed can do some damage if used incorrectly, in the right hands, the pain can be extraordinary.”
He made the punishment sound sensual, playful. Even exciting.
I knew better.
Jago showed me what he would use and I shrugged, saying nothing.
“You can scream if you’d like. My men won’t care.”
“Fuck you.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Remember what I told you. Be very careful what you wish for.” I’ll be damned if he didn’t laugh again. He was having so much fun tormenting me.
“I’m certain your tiny dick would be lost in the effort.”
“Mmm… So testy.” He raked his fingernails down my spine. Instantly, I froze, fighting trembling at his touch, but I failed.
My strong will was intact, but the crackle of electricity from being around him was insane. I’d never felt this way around a man. Not once. In New York, there were thousands of good-looking men in every flavor, as I liked to call it. But Jago was extraordinary.
He tapped my bottom with his hand and I involuntarily flinched.
“Don’t worry, Genevieve. I’ll go easy on you.”
“Please don’t. You want to mark me, so do it.”
“As you wish.” He tapped the cane across my bottom and took a step away. “I’ll go with twenty for tonight.”
Twenty. I had no idea how I’d tolerate even a single strike, but I would. Please God, give me the strength.
Jago waited for another ten seconds before issuing a sharp crack across my backside.
Never before had I experienced the kind of blinding pain as I did at that moment.
I pushed up from the desk, the rush of endorphins and adrenaline immediate.
I bit back a cry, blinking several times from the tears quickly forming in my eyes.
He didn’t wait for me to adjust, cracking the slender piece of wood against my bottom three times. There was nothing like the sound of the cane swishing through the air or the horrible anticipation of the next volley of anguish.
It came quickly. Now my butt cheeks were on fire. The simple act of breathing was difficult. I shifted back and forth from foot to foot, desperate to find a way to turn on the monster.
His heavy exhale reminded me of the treacherous man he truly was.
Don’t cry. Don’t scream. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
He considered himself a leader when in my mind, he was nothing more than a thug, a rodent who deserved to be fed rat poisoning. I made a promise to myself to make that happen.
One day.
One. Day.
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he said in an entirely different tone of voice than his arrogant one from before.
I threw my head over my shoulder, watching as he rolled the tips of his fingers down my back. The action was strangely comforting. A single tear trickled down my cheek and I licked it away as soon as the salty bead reached my lips.
Jago cocked his head, his chest heaving as he brushed a single finger down the crack of my ass. “You wear my marks beautifully. They belong to me.”
“Nothing about me will ever belong to you.” Even as I said the words, my pussy throbbed.
The way he laughed was far too telling. He’d already planned on how to break me. I’d allowed myself to become lured into complacency. Never again.
He resumed the caning, one brutal strike coming right after the other. Only when he cracked the cane against my upper thighs did I finally cry out.
“Fuck you!” I hated the wretched sound of my voice, the tone so forlorn. I loathed the part of me that still craved him.
After he snapped two more against my bottom, I dropped down further until my head was barely three inches from the surface of his desk.
The blinding sensations were caustic. When I felt a tremor in my pussy, I bit my lower lip until I tasted blood.
Dear God, help me. I was suddenly wet, my inner thighs sticky from my pussy juice.
As he took an exaggerated deep breath, I knew instantly he’d realized I was aroused. How could I feel this way? How could I ever hunger for such a savage?
Nothing made sense any longer.
My world had collapsed, yet I was still riddled with ugly desire.
The bastard dared touch me again in a sensual way, rubbing his fingers between my legs. I stiffened, once again tossing my head over my shoulder.
“Don’t you dare touch me!”
“You’re wet, sweet Genevieve. I think you crave what you refuse to accept.”
“I only crave killing you.”
“Perhaps you’ll get your chance. But not tonight.” He lifted his head, his eyes filled with lust.
With three more hard strikes, I moaned, sensing the first round of my nightmare was over.
Yet I knew it was only the beginning.