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Veronica looked up to find him still staring at her in that assessing way. She wished she could know what he was thinking, or how much of her own thoughts he’d guessed.
His chair scraped back against the linoleum. “Wash the dishes, then come to my room. I want you naked.”
Her heart was in her throat as she watched him leave the room. She filled the sink with warm, sudsy water and tried to make washing the dishes take as long as possible. The feminist on her shoulder insisted she must be offended and feel violated even over the dishes, to say nothing of anything else that had transpired. She should make another escape attempt, even in the dark without shoes. All she had to do was make it to another person. The evidence that would lead them to her kidnapper was burned into her now.
Whoever might know and respect Luke Granger, his family, their ranch’s history—there was no denying who that brand belonged to. On her other shoulder was her slut side, the part of her that had tried and tried to be satisfied, now faced with the embodiment of all her sexual fantasies, no matter how wrong. It was the wrongness that made her so wet and hot to begin with. If the things she’d thought about were tame and family friendly, they wouldn’t make her come so hard.
Her hands felt around in the soapy water for the next dish, but they were all on the counter now, drying. She pulled the plug to drain the water and dried her hands.
* * *
“Veronica,sweetheart, do you believe it’s wise to keep me waiting?”
She’d shed the gown in the hallway before coming in. Luke leaned against the headboard of his bed, a white sheet draped carelessly over his tanned, naked body.
“N-no, Sir.” She’d give anything to get rid of that weak stutter he caused every time she got scared.
“The dishes took twenty minutes. With the little that was there to clean, it shouldn’t have taken longer than ten.”
He pulled the sheet away to reveal his belt—or one of them—lying across his stomach. His cock was hard and ready to go again. She wasn’t sure if it was over the prospect of beating her or fucking her. “Go across the hall into the playroom and kneel in the middle of the rug. When I get in there, I want your forehead on the rug, and your arms stretched out in front of you, palms up.” When she hesitated, he said, “Now.”
She waited in that position in the other room for what felt like forever. Every time she heard floorboards creak outside the door, she tensed. But each time, nothing. Finally, when she thought she’d faint from the fear, the doorknob turned and he stepped into the room.
“That was twenty minutes, Ronnie. Do you see how much time that is?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
“I’m going to whip you with the belt for making me wait so long. I’ll be lenient and only give you ten. Thank me for that kindness.”
“P-please, I’m sorry, Sir.” She cringed as he circled her, stopping behind her where she couldn’t see him.”
“Begging won’t help you. Take your punishment and learn from it.”
“You’re a motherfucking psycho,” she said.
He jerked her back by her hair. “What was that?”
“You heard me. You are a sick fuck and everybody here knows it. The only reason you feel normal is that the guys who work for you are sick fucks, too. Do you want to ask again who hurt me? You, them, every cretin in the universe who’d even have the fantasy, let alone act on it.”
His eyes flashed. “Don’t get high and mighty with me. You have the same needs I have. Don’t act like mine are vile while yours are enlightened.”
“Trish consented. Youtookme. I never said I wanted this with you.”
“Your body said it.”
“That doesn’t count.”
He flipped her onto her back, straddling her, inches from penetration, but instead, he pushed a finger inside her.
“So fucking wet. Tell me to stop, Ronnie.”
She looked away, her hips bucking against his wriggling finger.
“Please...”
“Please what, princess? Please stop? Please keep going? Please treat me like the livestock I am?”
“Fuck you.”
