Chapter 2 #4
Her lips trembled and tears escaped the corners of her eyes. Thinking about Joel was still horribly painful. There was no way she could talk about him. “I… can’t.” Her throat was so tight she barely got the sentence out.
Victor walked over and held out his hand. “Come here.”
She hesitated. Grief made her feel isolated. All the females were dealing with so much. Her friends did what they could to cheer her, but she’d kept her emotions bottled up. Tempted by Victor’s compassion, she placed her hand on his.
His warm fingers closed around her hand, and he pulled her to her feet. “We’ll do this together,” he encouraged. “Take your time and share whatever you can.”
She sat next to him on the sofa and didn’t pull her hand out of his.
The physical connection made her feel supported without being overwhelmed.
“My parents divorced when I was eleven. Joel had just turned nine and he was devastated. He was convinced that Dad didn’t want him anymore, that he’d done something to drive Dad away. ”
“Many children react that way,” Victor said softly.
Joel’s tormented image flashed through Claire’s memory and a sob tore from her throat.
It took her a few moments and several deep breaths before she could continue.
“Mom tried to comfort him, but Joel lashed out at her. They argued all the time, so he started following me around like a shadow. He depended on me for everything. Before long, I felt more like his mother than his sister.”
“But you were still a child and you’d lost your father too,” Raphael objected. “Who comforted you?”
She looked at him, feeling oddly protective of her family. “My mother did the best she could. She kept a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. That’s more than a lot of kids get.”
“Tell me about Joel,” Raphael prompted. “What was he like? Did you enjoy spending time with him or was it all responsibility?”
“It was responsibility in the beginning, but we grew closer. Trauma tends to do that to people.”
“And what was he like?” Raphael persisted. “Tell me about him, not just the things that happened to him.”
She paused, allowing Joel’s image to form in her mind.
“He was quiet, introverted. He liked to read and did really well in school.” She smiled wistfully as she added, “He was the polar opposite of his big sister. I was a good student too, but I drove my teachers crazy. And no one ever accused me of being introverted.”
“Did he have lots of friends? Did you?” Victor asked.
“We moved around a lot. Mom had a hard time holding down a job, so friends were challenging.” She hesitated, not wanting to follow where the story naturally led. Tension banded her chest, and her mouth dried out.
“Keep going,” Raphael urged, his tone warm and encouraging.
Victor stroked her hand, just a light brush of his fingers to remind her that she wasn’t alone.
“I got a lucrative job when I graduated from college and Joel moved in with me. He needed to finish his education, but we couldn’t afford a place on campus.” A lump of emotion formed in her throat, making it hard to breathe, much less speak. Beyond this point there was only pain, paralyzing pain.
Victor squeezed her hand as he said. “Look at me, Claire.”
She slowly looked into his eyes. She felt surrounded by gold, warm and caressing.
“You can do this. Take a deep breath, then tell us what happened.”
Following his directive, she pulled air into her lungs.
The tension eased and her throat relaxed as she met his steady stare.
“My job was with Nuevo Biotech.” Her whispered confession ended with a shiver.
“I was thrilled when they hired me. I thought I’d landed the job of a lifetime.
But I had no idea who they really were or what they were doing. ”
“And knowing only what you knew at the time, anyone would have reacted the same way,” Raphael insisted. “Before the scandal broke, they were known for stability and prosperity. They were one of the giants in the biomedical field.”
She looked at him and felt more of her emotions melt away.
His expression was even more intense than Victor’s, but there was no accusation, no resentment or anger.
He just watched her, waiting for her reaction.
She suddenly felt the irrational urge to run across the room and curl up on his lap.
It had felt so good to be sheltered by his strong arms. She desperately wanted to be there again.
“How long did you work for them before you suggested that Joel apply?” Raphael asked.
“Two years. He was finishing his degree, and I wouldn’t let him quit.”
“When did you find out about the experiments?” Victor asked, his expression carefully guarded.
“After it all blew up. I learned most of the details during the trials.”
Raphael arched his brow as he asked, “Then why do you blame yourself for what happened?”
“Joel was on Rydaria because of me,” she cried. “He was ruthlessly murdered while I stood their paralyzed by fear. How can I not blame myself.”
Raphael narrowed his gaze and studied her silently for a tense moment. “Would you like to be punished for what happened to Joel?”
“P-punished?” Their gazes locked, his burning into hers. She felt exposed and vulnerable, yet anxious and—she hesitated over the final admission—aroused. But aroused by the thought of punishment? Why in the world would that be true?
Raphael stood and ambled toward her. “If you’re guilty, don’t you deserve discipline?”
Her heart fluttered wildly then tingling heat washed over her in a sustained wave. She knew damn well what discipline meant to Rydarian males. He wanted to spank her, or worse. “It wasn’t my fault,” she insisted as she nervously licked her lips.
“I don’t believe you.” He took both her hands and drew her to her feet. “If you don’t blame yourself for your brother’s death, then you’re lying to me. Either way, you need to be disciplined. Lying to your mates is strictly forbidden, as is destructive self-recrimination.”
Victor watched them intently. His gaze was slightly narrowed, but he didn’t interfere.
“How will letting you spank me help?” His fingers were long and warm, completely encompassing hers. “Nothing can change what happened. Discipline won’t bring my brother back.”
“The event cannot be changed,” he agreed, “but your reaction to it can evolve. Your emotions have been dammed up since that horrible night. They need to be released.”
He was right, and so was Heather. Claire’s entire body ached from suppressed emotion. She had avoided thoughts of the massacre, tried to pretend that nothing happened. “What do you want me to do?”
“This must be what you want, Claire,” he stressed. “I will only take control if you want me to.”
“I don’t know what I want.” Her voice broke and a fresh wave of emotion surged through her.
“But I think this is what I need.” She blinked and her lashes freed the tears welling in her eyes.
She was tired of the nightmares, tired of feeling like her entire being was going to shatter.
Something had to give, or she wasn’t sure she’d survive.
He slipped his hands into her hair and brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “Resist me if you feel the need. Do not hold back any of your emotions.” Bending down, he pressed a brief kiss against her lips and then unleashed his aggression.
He had her jeans unzipped and pulled down before she realized what he intended. He’d grabbed her panties too, so she stood before him exposed and vulnerable. She was too shocked by his focused speed to struggle. Then he dragged her over to the nearest chair and bent her over his lap.
“Wait!” she cried out, instantly regretting her decision.
“You are no longer in control,” he warned as his palm connected with her upturned bottom.
The realization that he was spanking her wasn’t nearly as shocking as the fact that she’d asked him to do so. His hand smacked her again and Claire clenched her fists. The sting was sharper than she’d imagined, but only something intense had any hope of cutting through her emotions.
“Why am I spanking you?” Raphael asked, his voice deep and filled with authority.
“Because I asked you to.” His next two swats were harder than before. She gasped and twisted her hips, instinctively trying to avoid the pain.
“Why did you ask me to spank you?”
“I can’t rid myself of this guilt,” she whispered harshly.
Victor moved behind her and pulled off her boots.
One of her good friends had been claimed by lions so Claire knew discipline was often a form of foreplay.
It was likely that this would develop into something sexual.
Her pussy clenched at the thought. It had been years since anyone touched her intimately.
What better release for these pent-up emotions than a good, hard orgasm?
She tensed, but didn’t object when Victor drew her jeans and panties off.
“Open your legs,” he ordered. “Display that pretty pussy for your mates.”
She hesitated. Were they her mates? Could she picture a life with Victor and Raphael?
It wasn’t like there were a lot of choices on Rydaria.
Her nights were filled with horrific dreams and her days were something to survive.
She was miserable. What did she have to lose?
With these males she’d be provided for and protected.
That wasn’t much of a foundation for a vibrant future.
Their desire for her was obvious, but would that change once their sexual frustration had been appeased?
There was one way to find out. Without analyzing her actions any farther, Claire moved her legs apart.
“Lovely,” Raphael praised. His warm fingers skimmed over her naked bottom and down between her thighs. He caressed her folds once, then returned to her behind. He squeezed each cheek firmly then resumed the spanking.