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When I’d entered her apartment, stalked her into a corner, and slipped a needle in her neck, she’d seemed confused by my actions rather than horrified. As though she truly couldn’t imagine a world in which I was a person to be feared.
I was surer of my decision to keep her for myself than ever. Sofia needed to be protected, and no one would be more devoted to preserving her sweet nature than me. She might have been dragged out of her falsely safe bubble and into the cruel reality of our criminal underworld, but I would shelter her from the darkest parts of it.
We had established trust. It was time to work on her submission.
“Sofia,” I murmured, stroking the column of her neck with a feather-light touch. “It’s time to talk about your punishment.”Chapter 10Sofia“What?” I asked, his statement not quite penetrating the warm fog that blanketed my thoughts.
“You tried to run away last night.” His deep voice rolled through my mind like slow thunder, soft and rumbly. “I warned you that there would be consequences if you tried to escape.”
Consequences. Unease stirred as a flash of my feelings from my period of isolation disrupted my happy place. I pressed myself closer to him, my fingers curling in his shirt.
“I don’t want you to shut me in the bedroom by myself again,” I said, my voice small. “I don’t like being alone.”
“I know you don’t.” He soothed me, massaging my scalp with his long fingers. “I won’t punish you like that ever again. I thought I was going easy on you, but I was mistaken. You need to be touched.”
I nodded my agreement, loving the feel of his huge hands stroking my body with such tender care. I definitely didn’t want him to stop touching me.
“I’m sorry I tried to leave,” I said with complete honesty. “I was just scared. I won’t do it again.”
“I know you won’t, dulzura. That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve earned a punishment.”
I peeked up at him. His features were relaxed, his dark eyes hooded with the drugged appearance I’d first noted on the night he abducted me. He didn’t appear threatening at all.
But he was saying he wanted to punish me.
“I don’t understand why you’re talking about punishing me if you know I won’t try to leave again,” I said, more curious than argumentative. “You don’t seem to be mad at me. Are you mad at me?”
“No, florecita. I’m not mad. And if I were, I wouldn’t discipline you until I cooled off. I will never punish you because I’m angry with you.”
“Then why?”
“Because you disobeyed me, Sofia. I warned you there would be consequences if you did. I’m going to discipline you for that.”
“I still don’t get it. If I don’t want to escape, why is this necessary?”
“Because the transgression isn’t erased just because you’ve changed your mind since then. When you’re with me, I’m in charge. That means I take care of you.”
“But you just took care of me by making me breakfast,” I protested.
“Sometimes, taking care of you means discipline.”
I huffed, a little tinge of annoyance souring my blissful peace. “This is very high-handed. I don’t think I like this part.”
He chuckled. “You will, and you won’t. I’m sure you won’t be accustomed to the sting for your first spanking. But you might like the sting. I guess we’ll find that out soon.”
Spanking? He couldn’t be serious.
But he’d been dead serious about sending me to my room yesterday. He might like to tease and laugh with me, but Mateo didn’t joke about doling out consequences.
I had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t work, but I tried pouting, anyway. “I don’t want you to spank me.”
He grinned. “You really don’t understand how punishments work, do you, belleza? If you wanted me to spank you, it wouldn’t be a punishment.” His smile twisted slightly. “But if we discover that you do enjoy it, I’ll have to come up with cleverer ways to discipline you in the future.”
My mouth went dry. His dark eyes were sharp with hunger, and something tugged low in my belly.
“What if I don’t do anything to deserve a punishment in the future?” I challenged, not realizing that I was implicitly accepting this arrangement by engaging in a conversation about hypothetical future scenarios.
“You will. You might love being my good girl, but you like testing my boundaries almost as much.”
He got to his feet, keeping me in his arms.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he started walking through the open-plan kitchen and into what appeared to be his living room. With the L-shaped, brown leather couch and massive TV mounted above the slate fireplace, the space had a man-cave vibe.
“This will be more comfortable on the couch,” he explained as he sat down, taking me with him. “Well, more comfortable for me, at least. You, on the other hand…”
