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Now she was adding to the anguish because at some point I’d be forced to let her go.
As my balls swelled, I issued a guttural roar, a direct expression of the sweeping agony. And even as I filled her with my seed, I was forced to face that the devil incarnate could never be allowed a mate.
Or a lover.
Only gilded possessions were allowed for soulless creatures.
My heart pounded in my chest as my body shook and I continued to snarl at the ceiling, as if I’d find some sort of answers, a release of the anguish. What a fool I was.
I draped my body over hers, both of us trying to catch our breath. The sensation of her crowded against me was one of the best feelings I’d had in a long time, one I’d remember until the day someone put a bullet between my eyes.
Even though I wanted to remain exactly where I was, that wasn’t possible. This wasn’t about love.
Or was it?
Half laughing, I finally moved away, easing off the bed and raking my hands through my hair. Goddamn it. What the hell was wrong with me? When I glared at her, taking gasping breaths, all I could think about was fucking her again. She continued to clutch her fingers around the bottom sheet, tugging at it as she dropped her head.
When she looked over her shoulder, I could see trepidation in her eyes. She knew what was next. Rules were meant to be obeyed. I dragged her closer to the edge, shoving one of the pillows under her stomach and gently pushing her down.
“I won’t lie to you again,” Candy said in a much demurer voice than she’d used before.
“No, you won’t. I think the use of my belt will help you remember.”
She threw her head over her shoulder again, glaring at me. Good. She was finally accepting that I wasn’t some lover she’d picked up on the street but a man who required rules to be followed at all times.
I grabbed my trousers, yanking the belt from the loops. She never took her eyes off me, nor did she whimper even once. Everything about the woman surprised me, including her refusal to give into her fear. She had to be out of her mind with terror, yet since arriving here, she’d acted as if the incident had been no big deal.
She had no way of understanding that men like Rory and his buddies would likely never have let her go. They weren’t playing a game any more than the Bratva were. Still, something nagged at me, pulling on my sixth sense.
I’d find answers by the time noon crawled into the sky.
Or else.
I slapped the strap once before folding the leather in my hand. Her breathing was heavy, her face pinched as she stared at it.
“We’ll start with twenty tonight.”
She turned her head away, muttering under her breath. She was the kind of girl who refused to back down to anyone. Another trait I admired. I rubbed my hand from one cheek to the other, marveling in the feel of her soft skin against my rough fingers.
Then I took a step back, snapping the belt across the width of her bottom.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned, kicking her legs several times. “You’re a bastard.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Her nasty words turned me on, my cock already rising to the occasion. I cracked the belt across her bottom twice more, regaling from the slight blush already creeping up on her dazzling unblemished skin. The bastard in me wanted her to wear my marks. Hell, I’d love to tattoo her with my name, so every man knew she belonged to me. The thought was sinful and arousing, but not possible.
“I hate you.” While she issued the words, she closed her eyes, a moan escaping.
“Good. Keep hating me, Candy. That’s what will keep you alive.”
She bristled, my words obviously startling her. I brought the belt down again.
And again.
Her cries of pain shifted into ones of pleasure, her pussy glistening from building desire. When I eased my hand from one side of her bottom to the other, she shivered.
“You enjoy pain,” I half whispered.
“I…”
