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Now wasn’t the time for my inner voice to pipe in but she was ignoring my pleading.
As I trudged up the stairs, I fisted my hands like some insolent little girl. My feet were heavy enough they were stomping on the treads.
I wanted to be furious with him, but he was right in that I hadn’t been thinking when I’d trailed after the couple.
The news about my father’s attempt to control my life didn’t shock me. Nothing did with the man any longer. I’d allowed myself to be manipulated for far too long. But was there any difference in what I was allowing to happen with Lachlan?
Ugh. The two men and the situations were nothing alike. As Lachlan’s words filtered in and out of my mind, I realized I was obeying the man without hesitation. His voice was so commanding, protective in a way I’d never had before. The notion I did want to obey him still seemed strange, but completely comforting.
Something I’d never had.
When I was completely undressed, I tugged the pillow from under the sheets, gently placing it in the center of the bed. The fact I was trembling as I crawled onto the covers sent a shockwave of emotions straight through me.
With Lachlan, everything felt right, and I felt safe.
I eased over the softness, fisting my hands, determined not to cry even though my frustration given the wretched situation was eating me alive.
Instead, I decided to concentrate on my breathing as I waited.
A few seconds passed by. Then more.
It had to be at least ten minutes. Where was he?
I started to hear the seconds ticking off in my head a minute or two later. It became difficult to breathe. Then I became antsy from trying to keep my mind off everything that was going on. My God. How long was he going to make me wait? It had been at least thirty minutes. Should I make certain he was okay?
No, he was just testing me.
Damn the man for doing this to me. Okay, so what I’d done had been wrong, reckless. That didn’t give him the right to do this to me. Making me wait was cruel and heartless.
I couldn’t catch my breath. Finally, I glanced at the clock, realizing only nine minutes had passed.
Groaning, I smacked my fists against the bed, kicking my legs up and down in a tantrum seconds later.
Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this at all.
Finally, I heard the door and almost all the air was ripped from my lungs. As I turned my head, I was pushed into another realm from the sight of his inked forearms, his skin tone a direct contrast to the crisp white shirt. And for some reason, although I knew it was crazy, I realized I’d fallen hopelessly in love with him.
He stood watching me with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling. For a few seconds, I remained lost in his presence. When he walked closer, I shuddered to my core. Then he allowed his fingers to trail from my shoulder, drifting ever so slightly to my waist, shifting to roll the tips down the crack of my ass.
“My beautiful baby.” The huskiness of his voice, the inflection kept my nipples aroused, my pussy dripping wet. When he cracked his hand across my bottom, I shivered uncontrollably but not from the pain, from the way he took full control of my body.
And I wanted him to.
I craved his firm hand, his stern words. But more than anything, I craved his praise, the sweet moment when I could feel absolved of my sins. Why? Why? I couldn’t understand but I never wanted it to end.
“Twenty-five strokes of my cane. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
I clenched my buttocks until he caressed my skin, the simple touch allowing me to breathe.
“You can be a good girl. Stay in position.”
There was something about the thin rod he held in his hand that stole my breath, slender wood that encapsulated the art of domination. I buried my face in the comforter, bunching the material in my hand. I held my breath, every subtle sound he made booming in my eardrums as he walked around the bed, positioning himself along the side.
The anticipation was killing me, my mind fuzzy from thoughts of pain and his control. He had such a powerful way about him with every move he made, every breath he took. When he gently eased my legs apart, patting my bottom, I was certain I couldn’t handle the round of discipline.
All I could concentrate on was the whooshing sound the cane made as it sliced through the air. When the thin rod connected with my skin, I tensed to the point I jerked up from the bed. The crash of anguish slamming into my system was like a bright light being shone in my eyes.
