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It’s a cleansing. A sort of contrition.
And maybe he needs it too.
He brings his hand down again and again, two on one cheek, then two on the other, and it stings more than I think it should and although I don’t want to struggle, although I want to take it, he still has to squeeze his legs together to keep mine trapped and the hand that’s gripping my wrists is firm, just shy of bruising.
It’s loud, the spanking. Louder than my cries which are more whimpers.
I’m biting my lip to take it, and I don’t know if when I cry it’s because it hurts or because I just need to, need to let out the strange emotions inside me.
And I know when he punishes me, it’s not only for my wanting his brother, or for watching him come, or for letting him watch me.
It’s because he wanted this too. Because he gave me to him.
When I’m too tired to struggle anymore and my arms and legs go limp, he stops.
“Enough?”
I nod.
I’m exhausted and I just want him to hold me and when he raises me up to cradle me against him, I turn my face into his chest and I cry. I cry deep, quiet sobs. I don’t understand the reason for them. I don’t understand all these mixed-up emotions.
When it’s finally over, I reach up, sit up, and he’s still watching me. With his hands on either side of my face, he uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears before kissing me. And when he cups the back of my head, his touch is gentle.
“You’re mine. Even when he fucks you, you’re mine.”
I nod. “I know that. I know.”
He’s hard, I feel him between my legs and when he lifts my hips and lowers me onto him, all I can do is cling to him, our eyes locked, close, so close.
It’s not urgent, this fucking. It’s him reclaiming me, fucking me where his brother just fucked me. Where his brother just came inside me. Fucking me deep and slow and when he comes, I touch his face and just look at him. I can’t look away and I don’t come. I just watch him and what I’m feeling, it’s twisted. It makes no sense.
When he’s still, and he’s holding me, I run my fingers through his hair.
“You’re beautiful,” I say.
He gives a small smile and when we sleep that night, we’re both clinging to one another, naked, the room smelling of sex, of us, his gentle heartbeat lulling me to sleep, his soft breath on the top of my head, arms around me, cocooning me.* * *The next morning, it’s close to eleven when I wake up. After a shower, I go downstairs, trying to push the memory of last night out of my head.
I don’t know what I feel. A little embarrassed at it all. A little hungover from the wine and the whiskey. A lot raw from the fucking.
The spanking, it wasn’t a punishment at all. It was a purging.
I feel different this morning, but it’s not lighter. I remember what Gregory said to me when they brought me back to the island. That it’s just us now. That things are changing.
I can’t think about a time that Sebastian will give me to Gregory. A time that I’ll belong to Gregory. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it, Sebastian here with us, but me, not with him. Not in his bed. Not in his arms.
It makes no sense, what I feel, because being with them last night, I liked it. We were close. So close. And then, Sebastian and me…
I’m so confused and the word that keeps coming up, that one word to describe what I’m feeling, it can’t be that.
I give my head a shake.
Right now, I just have to focus on how I’m going to get through the morning. How I’m going to look Gregory in the eye.
But the moment I get outside, I find a note addressed to me sitting on top of the plate in my place. I pick it up, unfold it.
Helena,
Gregory and I are off the island for an appointment. You’re on your own for the day. We have a party tonight. I need you ready by eight o’clock for a late dinner. Dress will be sent up later today. Wear your hair up.
SOkay. I guess I’m relieved, at least for the time being.
I eat a leisurely breakfast and spend the afternoon swimming and reading. I even fall asleep poolside and by the time seven o’clock rolls around, I’m a little bored, so I go upstairs to get ready.
The dress is a beautiful floor length, strapless, white dress with a flowing skirt and long slit that reaches a little higher than mid-thigh. On the bodice and part of the skirt are butterflies in various shades of turquoise and sea-blue some with wings wide open, some resting, all beautiful.
