Chapter 12 #2
“It’s not a joke. You’re the strongest woman I know. Nothing can break you, not even me. You’re my miracle.”
“I shouldn’t have to be so strong.”
“But you are.” He held my gaze with meaning. Paused a beat. “Only you can handle what I need.” He tapped the hairbrush against his palm. “And what I need right now is to blister your ass.”
“Just when I think we’re getting somewhere.” I yanked at my infinity collar, brimming with restless energy—a tonic of anger, desperation, and even regret. “Take it off, Gage. I’m done handling your shit.”
He struck so fast, I didn’t have time to gasp. I dangled over his shoulder, the hardwood floor of our bedroom my only view as he stalked toward the bed.
“Let me go!”
He dropped me to my feet and forced me over the end. “Ass up, Kayla.”
I kicked and yelled and slung obscenities at him.
“Knock it off. Take your punishment like a fucking adult.”
“Why should I, when you treat me like a child?”
“If you don’t behave, I’ll make you wish you had.”
“Let. Me. Go.”
“Do you remember your wedding vows, or do you need a reminder?”
“Do you?” I fired back.
He smacked my ass with such strength, the world seemed to halt.
I cried out, my eyes stinging, muscles rigid from the fiery imprint of his hand.
That hairbrush was going to be torture in comparison.
I held to no delusions; he had every intention of beating me with it.
The thought stole my breath, and I fought for air until my lungs filled.
The world jerked forward, returning to its laborious orbit around the sun.
Just like I would. I’d orbit Gage because he was that powerful. He was the center of my solar system, the God of my gravity, the devil of my desire. The Master of my mind.
He was the dean of my discipline.
“Let’s try this again,” he said, squeezing where his palm had just put me in line. “Do you remember your vows?”
“Yes! Of course I do.”
“I want to hear them. One at a time.” He shifted and stood to the side. With ceremonial significance, he placed the brush on the mattress in front of me. Fisting a hand in my shortened locks, he forced my gaze on his chosen implement of punishment.
Wooden, square, made durable for long hair…which I no longer had.
Warm fingers skimmed the back of my thighs, inching my skirt up to expose his naked canvas. “You’re getting five strikes for each vow, but for each one you’ve broken, you’re getting twenty-five.” He released his grip on my hair and picked up the brush again. “Don’t plan to sit anytime soon.”
I wanted to scream at him. Wanted to tell him to go screw himself. But he had me right where he wanted me, and I knew from experience that the only way out was to follow his orders.
“Okay, Gage. You win.”
Whack.
“Ahhh!”
“Address me properly.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“Start reciting.”
“I promised to love.”
“Love me, you have. I know I’m difficult to love, but I feel the way you love me every time you drop to your knees.”
Whack.
“Every time you make yourself gag so I’ll come that much harder.”
Whack.
“Every time you take my belt.”
Whack.
“Every time you’ve let me kiss your tears away.”
Whack.
“Every time you come with my name on your lips.”
Whack.
“Every time you watch me with Eve.” Dead silence followed his words. He cleared his throat. “You don’t realize that I’m paying attention, but I am, Kayla. I see the amazing smile that lights up your face. Your joy is a fucking weapon.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Next vow.”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see through my tears, so I wasn’t sure how he expected me to speak. But that didn’t matter. I’d better find a way to utter what he wanted to hear, or face even harsher consequences.
“To honor.”
“Have you, Kayla? Have you honored me?”
If I were being truthful… “No, Master. But you haven’t honored me either.”
“How do you figure? You’ve been sneaking behind my back for weeks. How have I dishonored you?”
I figured now wasn’t the time to bring up the double standard—the fact that he’d hid something from me as well. But there were no double standards with Gage. Only my obedience.
“You don’t respect me,” I said. “You don’t care how I feel. You’ll always do what you want, and what I want doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right. I will do what I want, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter. You matter more than you realize. I’ve made concessions I didn’t think I was capable of making. I stood by knowing you were seeing him, and I said nothing.”
God, he was right. I had no argument to stand on.
“We’ll call this one a draw,” he said. “Next vow.” The tone of his voice dipped to a dangerous level.
We both knew what was coming. His triumph over punishing me, and my struggle to endure it because I had broken the last vow. I’d stood on that altar and promised to obey him. It didn’t matter that his expectations and demands were beyond fucked up—I’d married him with both eyes open.
He hadn’t changed. He’d remained his usual volatile yet ironically dependable self. If I could count on anything, it was that Gage Channing would always punish me.
“Obey,” I whispered.
“Did you break that vow?”
The words wouldn’t come at first. A lifetime seemed to go by in the time it took to force out the answer he thirsted for. “Yes, Master.”
“Yes, you did. Even worse, you broke my cold as fuck heart.” He brought the brush down with maximum strength, stealing the essence of my life-force.
My lungs refused to work. My muscles refused to relax and take the strike.
My brain’s synapses were stuck firing down a one-way street.
The boulevard of broken man. Gage had a heart—fragile and infested with love for me.
I’d stomped on it by not giving him all of mine.
“You could have volunteered anywhere. Any goddamn fucking place, Kayla. But you chose that hospital. Why?”
“I don’t know,” I cried, not even flinching when he hit me again.
“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to admit it.”
Whack.
“Fuck, Kayla, out of every man on this planet for you to be in love with, why’d it have to be him?”
My body quaked from the force of his words.
“I love you more.” I shuttered my eyes, too ashamed to look at him because my non-denial spoke volumes. I was in love with two men. To finally admit and accept it shredded my soul. “Forgive me, Master.”
I glanced over my shoulder, and for the second time ever, I watched him struggle to hold it together. Tears hinged on dark, thick lashes. He blinked rapidly, each drop purging him of turmoil and grief and heartbreak.
“I’ll die trying, Kayla.” He lifted the brush, and my ass became the devil’s playground.