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“Have you done this before?”
“Done what?”
“Kidnapped someone… forced someone to…”
“Sure. Sometimes people aren’t so willing to be where I want them to be. Have I ever taken someone for my own pleasure? No.”
I let out a breath and try to push off the wall, but Lorenzo doesn’t ease his hold on me.
“What about the second part of my question?”
He sighs and stills his hand on my rear, his palm cupping the globe.
“No, I haven’t. But I’m not going to rape you. I’m going to punish you.”
My brow furrows in confusion, and I open my eyes just in time for the first bolt of electricity to strike my ass.
I gasp, too struck to even cry out, and Lorenzo brings his hand over my ass in rapid succession.
“Stop!” I shout when I finally get a breath. “Please stop.”
He doesn’t. He doesn’t even respond. A torrent of blows stings my backside, so many I lose count. I bite down so hard on my lip it bleeds.
I didn’t know spankings could hurt so much. Punches to the face, sure. Kicks to the stomach, choking, definitely. A myriad of things cause pain, but this is without a doubt the most humiliating.
“Please,” I whine. A sob crawls up my throat and tears burst from my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
For this, he pauses. Heady breaths hit my back, but my guess is it isn’t from physical exertion.
“What are you sorry for?”
He slaps me again and I wince, my body jerking.
“For embarrassing you.”
“Embarrassing me?” Lorenzo scoffs. “You could not possibly embarrass me. As much as I’ve enjoyed chasing you down this evening, youhavedisappointed me. I’m not going to stop until you tell me how.”
He hits me again and then pulls my hips back when I try to get away from him.
“For running,” I say.
He hits me again, and I let out a cry.
“I like you running, Kitty. It’s entertaining.”
“For not staying beside you on the floor!”
Another blow.
“For eating off your plate.”
Lorenzo chuckles. “That was pretty ballsy of you, and I would probably murder any other person on the planet for such a disrespectful act. But no, Kitty. That isn’t what I’m referring to.”
He hits me again, and this time I think through my next guess. I tense, expecting a blow from not answering quickly enough, but it doesn’t come. Yet.
What the fuck could possibly be worse than standing up to him in a room full of people and then running away? I didn’t even curse.
Oh, Jesus.
