Page 88 of Lust and Honor

Two steps from reaching me, instinct kicks in. I spin around, grab the doorknob, and try to pull it open. But before I can, his arm shoots out, slamming it shut again. The hand holding the belt reaches past me, twisting the key in the lock. Then he pulls it out. Panic flares as I grab for his hand, trying to snatch the key, but he catches my arm and shoves me back into the room.

As he pockets the key, I scream at the top of my lungs, “Are you insane? Why the hell are you locking the door?”

He brings the leather strap between his hands, pulling it taut, then snaps it apart with a whip-crack that echoes through the air.

He tilts his chin toward the bed and gives a low, dangerous order, “Take off your jeans and lie down.”

I stagger back a step, disbelief hitting me hard. My voice isn’t as sharp now. “Have you lost your mind?”

His jaw muscles clench tight, and he lunges toward me. I scream and scramble onto the bed. He stops at the edge, glaring down, and growls through gritted teeth, “You’re the one who’s lost her fucking mind. I told you to stay the fuck away from those strippers, and you go and lock lips with one of those motherfuckers?”

I’m gasping, adrenaline and fear crashing through me. “You don’t get to judge me. I was drunk, I didn’t even know what I was doing. But you looked wide awake when you were grinding your dick against that naked girl’s pussy. You can be a slut, fuck around with the whole world, but I can’t?”

Before I can even finish, he launches onto the bed with a speed that shouldn’t be possible for his size. I twist to bolt, but he snags my ankle and yanks so hard I slam face-first into the mattress. He traps the fists I swing in wild self-defense and pops the button on my jeans. This time, my punch lands, square against his jaw. His head jerks with the hit.

His lethal glare pins me in place for a heartbeat before he flips me over and cracks his hand down hard on my ass. I thrash under his unyielding grip, screaming for him to let go, but it’s useless. He drags my jeans down to my knees.

My stomach’s slung over his thigh, my bare ass exposed and vulnerable. The cool air kisses my skin, and I know it’s over, so my body goes still.

I crane my neck, tears and rage burning in my throat. “Let me go. You have no right to treat me like this.”

He raises the belt and cracks it down hard on my ass, ripping a scream from my throat. My skin burns like fire, and tears spill unbidden down my cheeks. He grabs a fistful of my hair, loosened from its clip during the struggle, and yanks my head back.

“Tonight, I’ll show you exactly what rights I have. Didn’t I tell you if you’re mine, I’m never letting you go? Didn’t I say you don’t get to touch another man?”

Another strike lands, turning my sobs into heaving gasps.

“Primitive bastard. Caveman. You’re a fucking asshole, Maxim. Let me go.”

This time, when I writhe beneath his grip, he doesn’t resist. He lets me go.

I scramble away from him, and instead of worrying that he might come after me again, I twist around and look over my shoulder at my ass, staring at the angry red marks his belt has left across my skin.

I turn back to him, disbelief and fury blazing in my eyes.

Still gripping the belt, he says, “I never pretended to be anything more than a bastard. A bastard who protects what’s his. No fucker’s hand gets to touch what’s mine. You chose to be mine.”

I grit my teeth. “I told you this goes both ways. I said you don’t get to be with anyone else either.”

His fist tightens around the belt.

“Being with someone for me means having my cock buried to the hilt in her pussy. Not playing some stupid truth-or-dare game and flirting with a woman who means nothing to me.”

Even as the sting in my ass has me floating in agony, my face still wet from the tears I’ve shed, I ask, “What the hell do you mean?”

“That woman was a game. A fucking bet. I was supposed to grind her against me and not get hard. What did you expect me to do? Say, ‘Ava forbids me from touching another woman’?”

My eyes widen at his sheer audacity, the pain forgotten for a split second. Rage surges through my veins like adrenaline on fire.

Without even realizing what the hell I’m doing, I launch myself at him, reaching for the belt and trying to rip it out of his hand.

“Of course you should’ve said exactly that, you son of a bitch. You’re beating me for something far less. The one whose ass deserves to be fucking red from that belt is you, not me.”

He jerks the belt out of my grasp and flings it blindly across the room. He’s breathing just as hard as I am when he catches both my wrists and yanks me forward until I slam against his bare chest.

“I don’t make a fool of myself in front of my men. And I’m sure as hell not letting you do it either.”

In one quick move he doesn’t see coming, I twist my head and sink my teeth into his hand so hard a roar of pain tears from his throat.